Swiftcurrent Creek August slipped away into a moment in time.

She had fallen asleep.

Around her had been the leaves and puddles of the Heartwood, and the memory of Wraen playing games with her kept her rooted there for a long while. It was hard to determine how long — if it mattered, even. But she was calmed after, and slept, or waited; and when she came-to again, the forest had changed.

Where before the trees were variegated and clustered, now they seemed to form walls along the edge of the earth, and instead of being painted red and gold and brown, they had become spires of tall evergreen. The forest floor was littered with needles rather than leaves, and there was a dampness to the air.

The form of Ibis, glimmering where the sun shafted down upon her, stood and stretched; she yawned, preening at her coat, oblivious to the fact she had somehow manifested somewhere new. This was a place she did not know - with people that did not know her - but like before, she was unbothered.

As her sleepiness waned, Ibis felt the urge to sing to the sunlight. She could spy some birds in the trees and with a little laugh she began to hum a tune, mimicking their twittering song; but as her song picked up, theirs became silent, and they stared in her direction — unable to see her ghostly figure, yet hearing the song on the wind.