Deepwood Weald i looked away

Lyra had farewelled Alya with equal amounts enthusiasm and sadness, relieved Hydra had returned from her own journey before the girl could take a nosedive into self isolation without her sisters. Whenever one left, she felt like a piece of her very soul had been removed. She needed a distraction, a change of scenery. Entertaining herself with the newest litter — as much as she loved them — only reminded her of Alya's maternal instincts and the curious motherly nature she had subjected her sisters to for a while there. A trip of her own was overdue.

It wouldn't be as far as her triplets', Lyra being the homebody she was. However, an excursion to find new herbs was enough to spur her northwards, through silverlight terrace and into an eerie woodland. At first she had thought snow was beginning to fall again but soon realised the forest itself was shrouded in a peculiar mist. The trees rose like gangly fingers reaching skywards, the ground littered with rotten twigs that snapped underfoot. Whispers suddenly reached her ears, and Lyra whirled around, stifling a startled gasp. She was not a believer of ghosts despite her father's stories, but she was still startled by the spectral being that had appeared in her field of vision. It disappeared just as quickly, white coat blending effortlessly into its surroundings while Lyra's own formed a conspicuous black void within the landscape.

She huffed irritatedly at her own nervousness, inhaling deeply before releasing a demand of the spectre. "Show yourself."