Nocturne Summit this little piggy went to the liquor store

the stranger is not surprised by the grim news that praimfaya bears and goes on to explain that an acquaintance of his had his face eaten off. it conjures a gruesome image in her mind. aska's face flashes before her eyes then. muzzle mutilated and blood pouring from the throat wound that she inflicted him with. the taste of his blood in her mouth as stark as the crimson lifeblood that dribbled down her chin, splattered across her silver chest. praimfaya's left shoulder twitches; and she does not ask how the man's acquaintance fares, assuming he has died.

the topic moves back to the mysterious glowing moss, and the stranger's assessment that he didn't think it would kill them. think is not enough to entirely assuage the commander's worry and her lips mash into a terse line as she regards the strange flora once more. there was something both unnatural and beautiful about it all at once. crazy? she questions sharply. she understands well enough what the word implies but seeks some sort of clarification besides.

he speaks of the sea, that the waves glowed and assures her that nothing bad came of splashing in the water. her ears flutter back once more as her frostbound gaze moves to assess his face carefully. but this is not the sea. she points out. for a moment she peers past him to the moss and takes another step closer; unsure.

curiosity kills the cub, commander.

a sharp breath is taken, accompanied by the furrow of her brow as her limbs begin to feel ...heavy. a woozy feeling flows thru her, tingling along her spine; a shadow appearing in the shadows of the summit, eyes glowing like the moss before them. ...linkoln! she breathes the name of the first wanheda, turning her head swiftly towards the ebon cloaked stranger to see if he could see the apparition too.