Arrow Lake her lusts damned a golden world to die, they say

Not unlike the days before, the ground shuddered beneath her. Nyx, having been resting at the lake's edge, first lifted her raven-tipped crown to press her ears forward and gaze with surprise as the water's surface rippled and the pebbles shifted.

These tremors did not dissipate. Instead they heightened and the tawny Ostrega scrambled to her paws, braced herself, wild yellow eyes frantically searching for somewhere to run to. There was nowhere suitable, she was swift to realise, nowhere she could hide from the quaking ground, nowhere [/i]safe[/i]. But time was valuable, she felt, and so she bolted.

Wherever she tried to settle, there was despair. There was destruction and suffering. There was death. She truly saw that now, as her fearful gallop brought her before a grim sight: a dark figure, sobbing and shaking as he hovered over something among the rubble.

Blodreina.

Mouth dry, limbs trembling, guard hairs bristling along the length of her spine, Nyx stood rooted to the spot as she felt the bitter tang of bile threaten to force it's way up through her throat with each heave of her breath. She listened to Ingram's cries, his plea, and although her heart yearned to follow him as he turned and fled, Nyx found herself unable to move.

She simply stood there, unblinking, watching her fallen comrade and wishing with every fibre of her being that it had been her.