Larksong Grotto what gods win, what you lose

last!

Prayer is awakening, enlightening, granting intimate threads of connection to the spirits of earth and sky. Invocations have always left her with a closer tie to the spiritual plane.
Drowsy and heavy, the huntress feels none of this now. Her chest screams, her voice would have too, if she’d any left. Ayovi soon finds she is paralyzed, unable to lift her muzzle as Aspa rubs something warm and thick into her brow. Her stomach cramps, rejecting what it’s been fed and hot bile leaks between the teeth of a parted jaw, but she has no faculties left to clear sickness from her lips.
Eyes, the end of control. Ayovi watches what she can of shadows sifting over earth before sight, too, dissolves into nothing.