Hushed Willows There's a warning written in the corners of your face

John was not difficult to find. Reverie offered a quiet smile, eyes drifting from him just for a moment — and that was when she saw it —

a flash of gilded feathers long forgotten; the vision which had once plagued her at Swiftcurrent Creek, now symbolic to Reverie in a way that sent a rush of fear down her spine. It would never leave her, would it? She would always be haunted by this.

Did you see that? She breathed, not hearing what John said at all, though she knew that he had not. It was a product of her mind; it was madness given form. And she was afraid.