Blackwater Islands dark waters

in the absence of druids to tend the land, many unsavory things grew wild; a damp rot, sea-salted and wind-tangled. the prophet closed her eyes, awash in the scent of a silent wraith. she did not turn.

you are late.

the druids were gone.

or perhaps early. eyes now on the swell of her own dark flanks.

the prophet turned, drawn now to full height, and regarded this creature of night in corrosive silence.