Barrow Fields what do you see before you blink?

for the first few days following illidan's reintroduction into their lives, the sylph had been filled with more intense, frenetic anxiety than usual. she scarce left any of their sides -- it seemed too lucky, too good, that a missing piece of her heart was returned to her.

and so, she kept waiting for fate's guillotine of a hammer to fall.

yet after harassing her children with her constant, inescapable presence, caiaphas realized she would do them no favors at all being so smothering. reluctantly she allowed them their leave, watching with a fretful worry as they prowled and coursed the fields, three souls born of her own rotten fruit, individuals with their own wants and needs and legacy.

to distract her troubled mind she revisited the barrows; it was an old stomping ground of hers, and just like it had always been in her time in the wilds, it remained unclaimed. caiaphas had always wondered what it was about some territories that invited constant settlement over others; the barrows were just as proliferate with prey as any others, and yet, no monarch had ever ruled its sorrowful halls in her lifetime.

perhaps, there was an old disquiet that lingered in this place that kept settlers at bay. caiaphas had wondered if erzulie would find the riven ground fascinating; she had spent enough time with the maven to recognize her to be some sort of wych - good or bad.

trawling between two raised mounds, caiaphas caught scent of a hare -- she chased it only half-heartedly, her mind thousands of leagues away from where her body currently tread.