Something had died nearby. She could sense it. Even if all else failed her, the pull of death and decay never would.
The dead antelope had fallen under an old tree. The low hanging branches were beautiful, if a little sad. It's own swollen weight had made it nearly crack in two. Unfortunately her presence would only worsen the fact, and as she moved closer it was proven true.
The body withered away to yellow bones, the earth swallowing up the flesh, and eventually the skeleton sunk down into it as well. Not a trace left, save for a dark brown stain on the grass around it. The tree seemed to darken and wither as well, the smaller branches becoming more brittle. Posca frowned, and had to tell herself that it was necessary. And that when she left the tree would grow stronger again, even more so with the nutrients from the now decayed carcass.
The goddess turned and walked back into the line of trees, her large wings folding out to leave her mostly in shadow, blocking out the sun. She did not wish to linger in one place for very long, if she could help it. But she paused, this time, her old broken wings aching from age and the fact that the flesh under the feathers was wet and peeling. She sighs softly, letting them droop down to the ground to rest against the cool grass.
Just a little rest, and she could be on her way again...
