Ravensblood Forest seraphim weeping

This didn't feel right.
At some point, it had set in that she was now the farthest she'd ever been from the Isle; from Daddy. And that chasm inside of her ached, it roared and screeched and echoed hard beneath her ribs.
In the hours that had passed, she wept in the comfort of silence and tucked herself close to Simeon; Malakai she avoided, said not a single word to, for he had nothing good to say to her. For all intents and purposes, he was not her brother, and Daddy, at the current moment, was not her father. But in the river, she saw his face when she looked down.
And none of it felt right. None of it felt real.
The trees are big and tall and freakish, nothing like the sweet spruces that sweep the Isle, and Dinah hadn't the energy to be fascinated with them. She misses Judah. She yearns for Gramma; she yearns for — she doesn't know. But her eyes rest upon the darklit form of Ava, nestled at Mama's belly as if she were still a nursing newborn, and she can still smell that awful, awful, awful stench. It still burns her eyes.
She sits in between two sprigs of bracken as if they may shield her from the cataclysm.
Mommy, comes her puny little voice, dredged in salt and oh, so tired. can I have a hug?