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It was dark. Cynthian knew this. And despite that, she could see perfectly fine through the gloom of these familiar trees and flowers. She was on the ground, staring skyward, but inevitably she would have to rise to the sense that she was being watched.
Nothing moved, but she could feel them. All of them, watching, waiting, holding their breaths, but never leaving. They were all muttering to one another, keeping their distance, but all of them felt hostile toward Cynthian. Watching for an opening. Perhaps already preparing something. Like a village hunting down their catch...
What would they do to Cynthian?
Where was Ivy?
Nothing moved, but she could feel them. All of them, watching, waiting, holding their breaths, but never leaving. They were all muttering to one another, keeping their distance, but all of them felt hostile toward Cynthian. Watching for an opening. Perhaps already preparing something. Like a village hunting down their catch...
What would they do to Cynthian?
Where was Ivy?