Deepwood Weald immolation

A dream brought me to these woods. She flicked an ear at this, and controlled her expression as best she could, lest her eyes go wide like those of an owl. When the girl spoke of Donnelaith, Saga could not stop the recognition from crossing her features, and was filled with so many conflicting emotions she had to pause her thoughts and control them. The wind in the trees made her shiver, and while the pretty pale wolf spoke kindly and her voice was soothing, the words themselves sent chills throughout Saga's body.

It seemed as if Saga's namesake rang true in this place; though she did not actively seek the witches, she always found them.

They are only trees, she hastily denied, and shook her head ever so softly, speaking more for her own benefit than anything. The girl shifted her weight uncomfortably and then decided, since the trees were so eerie, that she would focus on her present company instead. Her gaze focused on the features of the white wolf and she drew closer, curious of her — yet wary also. Are you.. do you know Starbuck, the witch?