Lost Creek Hollow and as I set to face it, I'm unsure should I embrace it, should I run?

Was he?

Aquillius couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually slept through the night. Maybe it was when he was fevered and his sleep was split between deep nothing and nightmarish dreams with a thousand figures he’d loved and lost.

He looked between Crowfeather, Doedapple, the dark woods, and crumpled externally, his entire demeanor softening into that of a very tired boy. Wordlessly, he nodded, turning to shamble into the healer’s den. He was halfway in when he paused, whipping his head around to look at Doedapple, fear in his single eye.

They came back, you have to not let them in. You have to. His words were a hoarse, harsh whisper, and he turned into the soothing dark without noticing Doedapple’s flinch back. It was easy to find the place in the corner, made of soft moss and a skin like they had used in Akashingo.

Aquillius pressed his shoulder to the wall, slid down, and fell into a pile of limbs. Sleep would not find him for many hours, but he would be found by those visions all over again.

This time though, feathers would settle over his vision. Protection, a shield, a hallucination all over again.

”What will you do to them?”
Burn them, drown them, draw and quarter them.

Aqui is now skippable!