The body was a strange thing, fallible and weak. For some reason, the gods had deemed it necessary to trap her in this one. This one, with its strange, curled foot. Its scrawny frame. But perhaps the wickedness of her mind deserved the body she'd received.

She was floating below herself, dragged down by the spores in the meadow and the poppy seeds she had ingested. Shapes danced before her eyes; the colors of the forest were at once both vivid and lifeless. Every word she spoke aloud seemed to drag out for an eternity--even the movement of her jaw felt grossly exaggerated.

Above all, though, a sense of numbness. An escape. Potema had tried to escape Maegi through the poppy seeds, and now Maegi was trying to escape herself.

She had messed up. Her brothers hated her. Even if she were to go and find them, they'd turn away from her--as she had turned away from them. Cicero probably hated her, too.

But no one could hate Maegi more than she hated Maegi. Perhaps not even Potema.

Everything she desired was nestled within the dark seeds of the poppy flower. When she lapped them up, she fled away, at once both sky-high and deep within the earth. And the hallucinations the willow tree provided--oh! how they bloomed in her mind. Euron's mismatched eyes, shining like gems before her. Ramsay's contented smile. Cicero's patchwork pelt.

In this world, the world of poppies and poison, she was still with them. She was cleansed, guilt leaving her in an odorous cloud. She was free, uninhibited.

But when the effects wore off, she was left tired and groggy and sick and sad. So terribly sad.

So she took more seeds, and inhaled more spores.

A more structured shadow emerged from the muddled shadows of the woods, and Maegi blinked wearily, eyes straining to catch a better look. At first, her drugged mind thought it to be Cassiopeia, and she drew away, feeling mingled anger and sadness. How dare she return here, after she'd abandoned the woods and its denizens! Maegi was turning to stalk away when the musical voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Nyx?" she called hesitantly, taking a couple of steps toward the figure. Sure enough, it was the Dark Master's daughter, her friend, who had emerged from the trees. She was ethereally beautiful, spangled coat shimmering even in the dim light, made even more glorious by the hallucinations blooming in the girl's mind.

"What're y'doing here?" Maegi slurred, tilting her head in puzzlement--wrong move, for now she felt as if her skull was sliding slowly, heavily off her body, ready to topple to the ground. It never did, though, and she straightened, with a nervous swallow. No one ever came to the Weeping Meadow besides her. Only once had she been disturbed here, and that, too, by her own father, who had an affinity for poisons.

Nyx was a new face here, and she wondered whether the woman had set out looking for Maegi specifically. Well, she'd found her at the worst possible time. . .Maegi wasn't capable of anything resembling a conversation. Probably not capable of much more than staring blankly into the distance, honestly.

She laughed, the sound airy and hollow from her throat, a chuckle that didn't quite make it to her eyes. "Dangerous? Yeah, I know. Cic'ro told me." Maegi spoke matter-of-factly, in icy tones. She'd known the meadow was dangerous for a long while, but for what? She felt at peace here; whatever danger it held was accompanied by numb bliss, and that was good enough for her.

Nevertheless, she sighed and humored Nyx, taking slow steps away from the meadow until she stood in the shadows. "I'm fine," she called out. "See?" As if to illustrate her point, she did a little dance in place; unfortunately, her head swam suddenly, and she staggered sideways, feeling her stomach churn. "Oof," she breathed, closing her eyes, trying to keep the world from spinning.

When she opened them, Nyx had multiplied into two twin black wolves, staring at her. "Whoa," she said, letting out a giggle. Maegi cocked her head at the young woman--women?--in a curious manner. "Nyx, wha'd'y'know abou' the Void?"

Everyone had always told her that the Void was where you went when you died, but to Maegi, the Void was all around her, its darkness sucking her in hair by hair until one morning she'd wake and be completely engulfed, nose underwater. Maybe she was dead, maybe some wolf had struck her down in the war, and the past few moons had been merely a dream.

But were there dreams in the Void?

She found herself annoyed, not touched, by Nyx's concern. She wasn't stupid. She knew what this place was. To have her ushered away like a brainless pup, talked down to like a simpleton--Maegi merely rolled her bicolored eyes, shaking off the young woman's inquiry. In doing so, her head spun once more. . .but she ignored it, affecting coolness.

"I'm fine," she repeated, more firmly. Maegi was excited to hear what Nyx had to say about the Void, but was disappointed, yet again, when she got a non-answer. It appeared that the dark princess was as clueless as she was on the subject.

"Can you come back from it?" Maegi asked, her voice a little impatient. She wanted her inner turbulence resolved. Everyone had refused to tell her of this magical place so often mentioned, never explained. Was it really so terrible that it merited hiding?

She'd seen death, felt loss. What was more terrible than that?

"Because I'm supposed to know! Priests and priestesses know about that kind of stuff!" Maegi burst out angrily, stamping her good front foot on the ground--which caused her to wobble, losing her balance and tumbling over. She glared at Nyx, trying to regain a sense of grace as she clambered to her feet once more. "But nobody ever wants to tell me about it because I'm too young," she added, shaking out her pelt.

She rolled her eyes, turning her back on the young woman. "Forget it. I'll go ask someone else." With a huff, she stalked away into the trees, leaving a clumsy weaving pattern of pawprints as she retreated.

Why was everyone so dull? Weren't they curious about anything? For a pack full of supposedly religious wolves, they were quite unimaginative. She missed Kove, busy with leading the pack. She missed Cicero, and she missed her brothers; she missed Miraak telling her tales, and Vaati giving her words of encouragement. Everyone she loved was gone--

What else was there to do but ask questions?