Grimoire was perturbed. Beasts in the wilds had created a hazardous environment, which the discontented female was actually quite please with. However, sleuthing through the night and becoming consumed with night time had caused two tragedies to occur. The first was that Wraith was missing from Taviora. His scent… more like his presences had drifted away. It made her snap her jaws and tension her lips in a line of irritation. She needed to find him. She needed to be certain her phantom had existed or else she be… ravenous for a center like him - a place that devoured her senses so completely that she could imagine absolute stillness.

The other was that Azrael was dead and Hyrule was gone. Bastards. She hadn’t gotten the chance to torment Azrael yet with his daughter’s ravaged ear nor drive Hyrule into savagery. Though she’d starved Raum, met Ghost (Underidge), met Maeve, met the fellow demon, Lamia, and had almost adopted an orphan, Zharko, it all felt like tar trying to keep her in place now. With no ultimate enemy (Angels she recognized) waiting for her pounce, what life was she to lead? Her lethargy, as a result, became worse, and her mind… Her mind saw the world in grim, muted chroma. And the ghosts pressed closer, whispering worthlessness into her soul.

Grimoire seemed to trip lazily into a sidestep to avoid a smokey bush. On her inhale, the fumes around her seared her senses before her lagging skills focused long enough to give the aroma a name. Salt. Her ears moved forward and for the first time in weeks, a bit of gleam highlighted her dulled eyes. Her paws had managed to drag her to Glorall, the garden of Eden.

Finally, her dusty gray matter produced the ensnaring question: Why? Being of primal instinct, Grimoire didn’t think to doubt that there was a purpose for returning to the sea side territory. She simple rocked to a stop at the border, and casted her eyes at a yellowed fern that the sun glinted off of, tuning it gold. Grimoire opened her maw and pitched a yowling call into the sequins of vines.

”Eden?!” Sharply, she called, and failed into a whisper, “Quaeso? (Please?)”