Silvertip Mountain to look into the mirror is to see the future, in blood and rubies

merrick's presence slipped between the fraying threads of her focus, a subtle, silent thing, until it wasn't. his voice reverberated through the cavern, looped through her thoughts again and again. i saw him die die die die die die —
the nudge broke them from their reverie of fading echoes, bony frame cast through the shimmering shattered-glass aura wreathing the bones. a flurry of scintillating cloudwisps flared up around her, an ephemeral cocoon of silvered latticework. gone in a moment, though it had never truly existed.
the din of a million whisper-screams filled her mind. a soft shudder fluttered over her frame, but asperas did not shy from the tumult. sin, she sensed, in her spite for the bear-god her father revered. but retribution did not cross her mind, so she pressed forward, sniffing delicately along the timeworn edges of the skull, the points of teeth long unused. then she turned to merrick, expression unreadable. die?