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she knew she’d been followed- neither by human nor daemon, but instead by a malak. wandering around amongst the people of the beachside town (though she hadn’t paid attention to its name) gave her no time to seek out her pursuer- it didn’t bother her too much, though, the feeling of being hunted down.
after all, nobody had caught on to her daemonhood just yet.
the malak is tethered, certainly, though with its own will- or so she assumes, from the glimpses of swift movement in her peripheral vision. more than anything, it’s a mild annoyance.
she decides to continue on. wander, and eventually find the malak’s vessel- if all goes well.