Blackwater Islands Another drink down the drain

the listener was near.

listening, as the name implied.

even in her weakened state, bridget's progress was a mounting pressure nestled between her shoulders, a burden that could not be shed. the new acolyte could not be allowed to slip. and as the voices rose, the listener knew that morgana could not be left alone to her task. but she had set the stage quite well.

enter the prophet, all billowing robes and elegant head held high. a pale sentinel heralded the entrance of the dark priestess. to nyra she gave a single nod, approval glimmering in her gaze.

the speaker acts on my orders, the listener spoke in cool, soothing tones as she looked to bridget. i had hoped to shield you from the truth until you recovered.

a moment, to allow this to settle.

you were unlike yourself that night. fearful. violent. maddened. i do not know what spirit held you in its possession. a rite was performed to banish the madness from you, but you lashed out as my druids worked their magick. one of our own was hurt. her blood still marks you. the berries were not meant for you, and i do not believe you meant to eat them. no more than i believe you meant to harm a druid.

the listener watched carefully.

i hope you guys don't mind this. let me know if i should change the part regarding rasha's blood (: