Noctisardor Bypass Life, Death, Religion, Survival

A cold feeling crept down her spine, like someone had dumped ice water over her head. Druid shuddered, which made her groan from the pain. She’d attacked Glaukos at her own peril, she knew. He’d barely even needed to touch her to hurt her so badly. Her tongue found the swollen cut in her lip, her eyes gone a little glassy.

When she finally mustered the wherewithal to move, she signaled Fiona and the two began the trek back to Dawnleaf. She felt immense gratitude toward the woman who guided her with care and patience she certainly hadn’t earned. Fiona could’ve thrown up her hands and walked out on this dumpster fire of a pack, yet here she was, helping Druid home.

At the doorway to the den, they stopped and Druid could only mutter, Thank you, Fiona, before ducking through the door.