Jade Fern Grove valar dohaeris

when the woman's eyes fixed upon sobeille, she realized her mistake.

these eyes were not the eyes of any wolf she had ever known. there was no light behind the pupil -- only an arcing blackness that spoke of ruin.

the woman spoke, , but as she trailed off sobeille could see more of that lightless gaze siphoning. she was here, but not here. a husk. a cocoon like the larval shells of dragonfly nymphs left on the bank, their empty casings speaking of the life that had once lived in them, now metamorphized.

she froze as the woman turned and snapped at something invisible in the air. then, the woman was advancing. every part of sobeille's brain told her to RUN, but instead it was like she was a passerby watching a storm -- rooted, but somehow absolved of her participation.

it wasn't until druid clocked her across the face and knocked her into the dirt that sobeille came to her senses and scrambled to her feet. but by then, it may be too late.