Stone Circle Wisdom comes with age,

Moss listened quietly, her gaze distant and unfocused, though she turned one ear toward each speaker. She had little energy to do much else, and she feared still the curse lying within her breast might be fractious, prone to flare up any moment. She felt her heart beat faster as the others spoke, erratic at times. She maintained her composure like a great mountain persisting below a gathering stormcloud. 

The voices around her became vague and confusing. Slowly, her muzzle drooped- a barely perceptible movement for any who might not have been staring directly at her. Her gaze remained steady, fixated past the gathering-

until she was fixed in the dandelion gaze of the accused. 

She looked to him, and in that instant, her great heart stopped beating. 

Someone else spoke, but Moss didn't hear her. She kept her decline as quiet as possible for as long as she could, so she might not draw attention, but within moments her head was spinning, and the pain spread through her chest like an icy gale. She felt drained of warmth, and an ache began in her jaw. The pain was constant, steady- ushered by short breaths that achieved next to nothing, until they slowed, and stopped. 

She stood abruptly and turned to Akavir before she fell against him, a great tree felled as though its core had become hollow.