Anathema can't eat this! So she instead sacrifices it to Isis. She'll like such a perfect apple.

Off she goes, to spread the word of her gods and also to find more apples. Mostly preaching. But also apples.

Local Jackal Wanders. Where is she going? To the market. While apples are tasty and filling, she still needs to eat meat and other fruits.

Anathema now finds herself wandering. She follows the footsteps of the Anathema before her, softly humming as bare feet tread over mossy earth. Jungle heat is different than the dry heat of the desert, but it is . . . comforting in a way.

Anathema finds herself standing underneath a tall oak, the leaves having long withered and the bark now all charred and gnarled. She digs near the roots, humming softly as she turns up a small golden necklace, a ruby set within the soft metal. The focus of a previous Anathema.

Soft humming as she writes in a small journal. Is . . . Is she using an actual quill? She is!

Eats an apple.

She eats another apple, munching away happily.

She is currently laying underneath the shade of a tree. She's curled up and snuggled up to a weather worn stuffed animal. A gift from a village she had passed through on her travels.