Duck Lake a mote will turn the balance

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vision began to leech in around the edges of the swirling shapes, bits of light and shadow and the blurred edges of near shapes. she blinked her gaze closed once more, the darkness a balm to the fading ache, the shapes that had lost definition and meaning. she noticed the dull crackle of paws on burnt grasses, and fear fluttered weakly in her heart a moment. yet she remained still, showing no sign of her recognition of the stranger's presence, drawing tight of the threads of courage until they encased her.

her gaze pulled open only when the stranger spoke, revealing behind scarred lids gaze that once, should fortune have favoured her all those nights ago by the sea, may have been sharply beautiful. instead, a patchwork of clouded scarring covered once clear optics, and when her gaze slid upward to find the stranger in her view, it paused somewhere near the stranger's shoulder. 

"there are not any monsters in this lake." voice came soft, drifting, as she carefully propped herself back up, head tilting as she tried to better make out the stranger before her. she'd been unable to tell by voice alone the gender of the stranger, and their scent was muddled and unclear. blurred shapes, made indecipherable by the still lingering patches of colour, had her draw no conclusions from the stranger's form, besides the vague knowledge that they were a canid.

"what are you?" not who, rarely who,  for she'd learned that other could wear any face they wished in her blindness. soft, again, voice lilting like the breeze which came again to brush more of the stranger's vague scent against her nostrils. agitation prickled her hackles, drawing tight once more the threads of courage and not allowing herself to slip back into thoughts of monsters and spirits who, too, sought to disguise themselves.