Cassiopeia's View Grass is greener right?

The wind changed directions and blew the perfume away — just as quickly as his presence had wafted past her, it was gone. To be completely honest, this was no different than any other night when she felt Dakarai’s phantom presence, so Farrah lingered one moment longer in that spot before continuing on, his sweet taste still tingling on her lips.

The spirit, however, was not ready to leave her alone. It spoke to her, its dulcet tones carrying towards her from far away, a song carried upon the loneliness of the night. It echoed her very thoughts, as if it had manifested from her own consciousness. Stop the torment? Oh, how she wished she could! A little bit offended, Farrah stopped her departure once more and turned to face the specter’s direction.

“I — I’m sorry…” she supplicated softly. There was not much else to say to the spirit, who was only as real as the wind that stirred the grass beneath her feet. She did not listen to the voices in her head, parading as gods or ghosts, as easily as she did before.