Blackfeather Woods Bloody Mary, full of vodka, blessed are you amongst cocktails.

She lay and sobbed, and he wished that there was something he could say to make her feel better. He had already shared his insights. Pain passed, always. But there was little use in further talking to her now. He did not want to share anything else with her, for he knew it would only bring a turmoil that only his madder part wished to see; not he.

Without a further word he turned away from Potema and he slipped into the darkness, burden of her well-being heavy on his heart but knowing there was nothing he could do to change it now, so he left her be, for anything he would say or do would only make it worse.