Blackfeather Woods [BWP] tremble, tremble, tremble

her dreams have become fleeting, dark, fraught with an undercurrent that she might call dread. she's spent enough time within the wood, oft alone with the quieter parts of blackfeather, that the distinct wrong-ness of the past few days does not fail to resonate with her. 

and so when the grounds shifts beneath her and the canopy comes to life with crows, she rises quickly, calling lowly to Hela and @Scylla who she knows are nearby. seconds pass, and it's over, but the woman is wary as the dread grows sharply tangible.