Dragoncrest Cliffs a study in metal and glass

Haunt didn't know the answer to Erzulie's question and could only respond by way of a pained look. She followed the Obsidian's gaze as it flicked to Rosalyn, who remained silent and stoic in the face of the yearling's news. But she had spoken to her wife about Haunt's persistent nightmares and it seemed they were both at least partly convinced it was truly their dearly departed Raleska issuing the warnings.

"I'm not sure," she replied with honesty, speaking slowly. "I don't even believe in ghosts, or I didn't," Haunt said, shaking her stumped foreleg like someone wringing her hands. "I'm willing to try anything, though I'm going to start spending the nights elsewhere starting tonight. I'll stay within earshot," though the truth was she would probably venture at least a few territories away, seeking the inner settling she experienced the further she went from Sapphique.

"I'm sorry," she was sure to say, yellow eyes drifting between the leaders' faces. "I don't want any of this. I especially don't want to leave you guys, not if..." Haunt drew in a breath, thinking of the mysterious and ominous warnings about the upcoming winter. Those were bad enough, then there was the physical toll it was all taking on her. "But I can't sleep and it's—it's killing me."