Noctisardor Bypass spirits haunt these magic hours, dwelling in the sylvan bowers

Druid woke to find Rivenwood limned in frost. She gasped, her breath unfurling from her muzzle like dragon’s smoke. This wasn’t a particularly new phenomenon but she had never seen anything like the sparkling white dust on every surface. She spent an hour or more marveling, until the sun crept up in the sky and burned it all away, restoring the forest to its usual state.

Only then did she realize she had woken alone. Druid retraced her steps to the log, yet she did not see the snake. She took a step, prepared to go looking for her, when she paused thoughtfully. Bracelet had hardly spent any time wrapped around her ankle lately, always basking or hunting instead. She had led her canine companion to a rocky outcropping nearby on several occasions, which Druid thought of now. She drifted in that direction.

She didn’t see the snake, though she pressed her nose against the chilled stone and detected her scent. Druid sniffed her way toward a small crevice in the rocks and intuited that Bracelet was tucked somewhere out of sight. She sensed a change of some kind, though she couldn’t possibly understand what was happening. Perhaps Mahler might know.

Slowly, Druid turned from Bracelet’s hiding spot and went in search of the Graf or perhaps @Heda or @Witch. She had told her sisters about the upcoming trip to the seaside and felt a lick of excitement in her belly at the thought. There were still several days left between now and the new moon but Druid would love nothing more than to chat excitedly about their plans.