Blackfeather Woods ticking away the moments that make up a dull day

before her maegi lurched, compiling in front of her gaze a wretched heap of bodily after-effects: churned guts mixed with vile root, and whatever insidious plant they had ingested.

astara was shivering as maegi attempted to soothe her, standing over her as if some sentinel to shield the nightcub from whatever came next. wave after roiling wave of nausea accosted the girl, until at last her feeble legs gave way and she fell to a delirious and fitful sleep.