Dawnlark Plains the pit and the pendulum

lightning flashes in her mind;

each strike, each blow, setting off a cacophony

thunder rolls—

or is it just the growl in her throat—and her aunt's?

so entwined they are, she isn't sure where her body ends and Laurel's begins. fur caught in the wind, whorling; blood spattered upon the prairie;

they both will be the worse for wear from this encounter.

and yet, Avicus the worst of it, and just as soon as the madness had began, it ends. fight snaps back to flight, and she skitters, whirling, kicking up dust and grass, bits of pelt,

flying, flying, sailing away from Laurel from all the strength she has left,

and for an instant she feels free, borne on the breeze, stronger than she has before. flying

over

the edge of Larksong Grotto, at the end of the plains,

tumbling down into darkness that envelops and embraces and entices

until she shrieks and sees and senses no more.