Blackfeather Woods i blew a bad man away, today

the world in which astara had been pulled from was unlike the world she had tread upon her entire existence; as she fumbled, disoriented by whatever shade had overcome her, she pushed the rock of tongues away fearfully. even as young as she was, she did not miss the correlation: she had stolen the trinket from her mother, and the trinket had stolen her into another world.

yet as she propped her thin limbs and pushed the thieved stone as far from her body as she could manage, she could not help but feel it turned to face her, and insisted it be pulled back into contact with her frame. down and dispirited was her expression as she studied the token, and when her mother swept upon her she met her with a fearful whine, pushing the stone from her body and thrusting her head into the ruff of her mother's nape.

in doing so, she caught the illuminated gleam of two eyes in the thicket: seized by worry, the girl growled as she bobbed her head, trying to better adjust her sight so that she might scry from the darkness the holder of those unblinking orbs.