He had lost track of his footsteps, how many times he had lifted a foot off the sand and set it down again on its lingering warmth. The full moon shone down on him, the shadows from its light making the dunes look even more desolate than they had in pitch black night when he had first arrived. Here and there little tufts of desert grass mottled the alien smoothness of sand.

He turned and saw, in the far, far distance, the rocky hills that marked his starting point. It felt as if he had spent days, weeks, perhaps even months walking from there to where he now stood, panting with exhaustion, his pale skin red from the heat that was present in the air this long after sunset. And now, behind him, he heard the breaking waves of an ocean. Water. Ships. A way home.

He stumbled now, turning to continue on his way, and as he fell he reached out one arm to steady himself. The other he instinctively raised to his chest, to the aching burn mark there, the shape of a clawed hand right over his heart. The skin tingled at the touch, a little painful. He rested a moment, staring down at the sand and then closing his eyes and drinking in the scent of the desert and the scent of the nearby waves. He could almost smell Her in the wind. And why not? He thought to himself. Is this not the place of Her origin as well? It was fitting, was it not? That Her first sister had once slept here on a bed made from the bones of her prey…

The sand was coarse and chafing against his skin, but he ignored it. It was proper that he suffer a little, at least some little bit of suffering. He owed the world that much for certain. He could never atone for what he had done; but there were very few things to atone for, and those few were great and rested heavy on his aching heart. He could move forward and try again. That was the…human thing to do. And for Her, he would be a man.

He took a handful of sand and watched it fall between his fingers. If You were here, he thought, thinking of Her, seeing Her against the lids of his closed eyes, I would write Your name in the sand. I would… He sighed, and gazed up at the moon again. I would - -

She awoke with a start, the smell of sand and ocean and grass surrounding her for a moment. Then it dissipated and she could only detect the potpourri from the coffee table. She blinked, sitting up. She felt as if she should yawn, but had no need to do so. Finally, she got up on her knees on the couch and peeked through the curtains. The moon was bright and full, but she felt empty inside. The house was silent.

Taking a deep breath, she curled herself up on the couch again, pulling the worn piece of leather up to her chin. She could almost taste the sand on her lips and on her teeth, carried by an ocean breeze. She shook her head. Nonsense. Just a dream. Closing her eyes, she fell asleep.