The Blind Beast

Grey Fogrobe - 27 - 'In vain we roared; in vain we tried.' 

[portalsintodreamscapes]

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crownedincrimson‌:

There was something in the air that shifted as he walked further into the shadows of the Woods. For a moment he froze, his eyes still adjusting to the darkness, just waiting for the smallest thing to give him reason to react. 

Slowly, he unsheathed a knife at his waist, his fingers wrapping tightly around the handle. A fingertip brushed against the blade, sharp enough to force a drop of blood from his finger. 

He hadn’t come unprepared.

Grey hesitated in her steps towards the trespasser the second steel kissed her ears. She had to be careful. She needed to be wise with her rage. It was difficult, however, when she’d been waiting for the possibility of this moment for so long. She felt her way as the roots guided her, the trees moving to follow the stranger until she was close enough that she needed their guidance no more. She hugged the shadows where she was safest, listening and lingering.

There, copper swam through her senses. Fresh blood changed the taste of the air. And deciding she didn’t want to wait to be found, Grey parted her lips and began to hum. The noise that came from her mouth was unlike anything that belonged to the woods. Soft as silk, sweet as honey. A glimmer of the young Jabberwocky she once was.

The song she hummed was warm - cinnamon-steeped waters, orchards bloated with fruit, fires on winter nights. She hoped it would calm and soothe the stranger enough to burrow into their mind; to let her pick every inch of them apart. Like she’d done with the Hatter’s Apprentice nights ago. 

[crownedincrimson-blog]

@greyfogrobe

Gideon had not been to Tulgey since the Panic. He still remembered the screams, the gore; children shrieking from the cold arms of their parents; mud covered faces and streams of blood. Wonderland is so peaceful now that so they forget what horrors they faced. He tries. Yet he never succeeds.

And with the fate that he fears awaits him at the hands of the people he protects, something pulled him toward those Woods again. 

No jewel encrusted crown, no crimson coat or silk gloves, Gideon dressed himself to be unnoticeable so that he could slip out of the Palace unseen. He made his way to the farthest ends of Palace grounds, where the darkness between the trees became blacker and blacker as he drew near. 

At first as he stood there, at the edge of Tulgey, some part of his brain that still preached reason asked him to turn away. There was nothing in there that could change what happened. There was nothing to find there to stop what was coming. But still, his fear did not stop him. The anger deep within him begged him to search for purpose; to remind him why that throne was his. And he put up no fight.

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Grey felt the trees turn without any of them moving in their roots. The moment they did, she listened. There was someone in the woods who certainly did not belong. Someone with a shadow bathed in years of blood belonging to families like hers. The air, which oozed with the scent of moss, damp earth, and copper, suddenly passed beneath her nose with the scent of something foreign. Something almost flowery - a silk smell. A royalˆ ˆsmell.  She rose from beneath Tulgey’s roots, a wrathful phantom slinking up from the earth like a moon, her porcelain skin covered in leaves, soil, and shrivelled needles. 

She’d inhaled that smell only once in her life before. On one particular night.

Her ears swam with the blood that rushed to them, every pore of her skin aching with memories. It had been so long since she’d hidden in the woods - many nights spent torturing many souls with their nightmares. And in all those years, all those lifeless petrified bodies she’d left in her wake - their bodies and eyes as white as milk, left to rot in the woods - Grey secretly scoured what remained of those bodies for signs that they were one person in particular. 

She bore every sense she had into the woods, scouring the winds for pieces of who this person was. Of what would make them crumble. She blinked her clouded eyes out of habit as she crept within the shadows, growing nearer and closer to the fool in her woods.

If she was fortunate, it was the Crimson King himself. 

She had plenty to show him.

[allyouneediswall]

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batteredbarkeep‌:

Truly this wasn’t a comment to try and escape the looming dangers, and Emmett hoped it didn’t seem that way. What some might see in Tulgey, was darkness, large trees blocking out the sunlight, and a sense of coldness. What Emmett saw was trees so large they cast shadows that danced all over the woods, a cool breeze that Fevered Forest would never have, a silence that to him was peaceful. Well that was if he wasn’t still weary and cautious of the woman in front of him.

“Arguably one of the loveliest places in Wonderland.” he said nodding in response to her comment. “It’s almost sad. The fact that people don’t understand such a wonderful place. And when they don’t understand something, they instead automatically paint it in a negative light” he said with a shrug pulling at his shoulders as his eyes cast downwards. Suppose that didn’t only apply to Tulgey woods but the creatures that inhabited it also.

If Grey had heard this stranger’s comments when she was younger, she would have whole-heartedly agreed. She would have struck up a warm conversation with them, appreciative of someone feeling for Tulgey the same way she felt. The same way her father, mother, and brothers felt. But that was back when they were alive. That was before she’d heard them tortured before being tortured herself. Blinded for the remainder of her life.

“It is,” she replied as she took another step forward. “How I wish I could see it.” Grey’s words became sour, her frame dark as she searched every noise he made - his breath, his voice, the flutter of his lashes. His words were manipulative, whether he intended them or not. They were trying to riggle their way into her heart, trying to make her feel like there was another being in Wonderland who possibly understood her. 

And that was impossible, even in a place as strange and odd as Wonderland. She knew that truth better than anyone. Regaining her cold focus, she began to hum a soft, soothing song beneath her breath - one that sounded as comforting as being nestled at a hearth on a long, icy night.

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lucienthemerciful‌:

Perhaps if he had a better idea of how long he needed, that would be better. But having used his powers he wasn’t sure exactly how long that would take. This was why he didn’t like Tulgey Woods very much. Every instinct in him was saying that he needed to run, but he needed to get his health back before he did.

He knew he had his sword, always did. But it felt like that wasn’t enough this time. She clearly had a better knowledge of the woods then he had. All he could rely on was that she hadn’t realised what he was. 

“That is all I can offer, but I mean no harm” which he had to hope was believable, but then he knew how people saw the knights, and he had no desire to give away his alliance. 

“Then tell me,” she began, brows furrowing as she listened closely to every sound the stranger before her made - analyzing each movement like every noise was a piece of art. “What do you mean to do?” 

As she spoke, Grey started to wiggle her fingers, plucking the air as if there were invisible strings or pieces of thread she was looming. She didn’t care about the stranger's answer, she could care less what words they grovelled at her feet in an attempt to subdue her anger - to subdue her music.

“If I were you, I’d answer honestly. Lies may suit you better elsewhere, but they won’t serve you well here.”

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eloisexsinclair‌:

It had been the worst when she had first been brought back and yet the easiest as well. When she crossed over to the other side, that was meant to be the end of her existence. The pain had been intolerable but it faded within moments and she was left on the other side, looking at her mother whose form hunched over the body of her child. It had literally been an out-of-body experience and before she knew it, she was back in her body. Things had been quite bizarre and she felt the difference almost immediately. Eloise had not returned as the same child. But her life was silent for a few days as she adjusted to the newfound scar on her body and fled with her mother into the far north of Wonderland, far from the reach of the Queen. 

But within the first week or so she began to see her first spirits. As a child she hadn’t known better and thought they were people. When they realized she could see them, their shapes began to change. After all, they had been trapped on their plane for too long and they were bored. She was the deviant child, the one whose mere existence irked them. They first would approach and ask her to bring them back, to use her gift to give them life again just as she had gotten life. Why was she so special that she deserved a chance to come back? The taunts were endless and as their anger at being stuck dead when she was clearly alive got too great, they would lash out in other ways. 

The years had only made it that much worse as more and more spirits discovered that there was someone who could see them and speak to them. Messages to be passed to family members were given, requests to bring them back were a constant, and of course some just wanted to torment her for the pleasure of doing so because they couldn’t spook anyone else. That night was especially difficult and the sounds of the voices around her was driving her crazy. Tulgey was always a bit calmer because despite being dead, some still feared the unknown beasts of the Woods and would keep away. Hands over her ears, Eloise made her way through the brush, swatting at empty air as though that would silence the incessant voices around her. Steps crushed through the woodlands, not caring where she went so long as she could escape the shrill shrieks of the spirits from beyond. 

Grey’s focus was first interrupted by an overwhelming gust of wind. It nearly sent her off her feet, but she managed to burrow her bare feet into the earth enough to stand her ground. Next, she heard an onslaught of steps crushing through the woods followed by a storm of shrieks and voices. 

Sourly, Grey blew a strand of her wind-swept hair away from her face. She didn’t understand why it was impossible to have a dead quiet night. Everything and everyone seemed insistent on interrupting her peace - her patience was wearing thin. 

Once she tucked the plant away, she effortlessly followed the sounds. It wasn’t like finding a feather drop on a cushion, whoever was running sounded like clumsy thunder in a library (which annoyed her even more). Hands balled into fists at her side, she crept out from behind the shelter of the woods, closer into the fray of voices swimming through the air like the wind was a sea. 

“Stop -” Grey hissed beneath her breath. 

She sucked on the inside her cheek, focusing on the vibrations on the forest floor until she caught the feel of the stranger running wild. The vibrations were getting worse - getting louder. 

“Stop,” she managed a little louder, now angry at herself for contributing the noise. But no matter what she said, all the noise continued. She knew it wouldn’t stop. Noisemakers just took up too much space in this world. Any second, she’d have to take specific measures. Grey tied back her hair.

[emilybrowningfans]

Emily Browning photographed by Eddie O’Keefe

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thehattersapprentice‌:

It wasn’t fair that Jamie’s agonizingly slow strangulation seemed to last for ages. His forlorn panic only increased as he could feel himself being hastily blotted out of the pages of Wonderland’s history. His mind was constricted by the sensation of withering away in utter isolation just as the invisible thread did the same to his airway. But then with a snap - the thin filament choking him vanished, and his workshop - or the illusion of his workshop - dissolved. He was… in the dirt on the ground, with his clammy hands still clutched around his throat. His breath came in deep gulps like the last breaths of a drowning man as he slowly sat up in disorientation. How did he end up on the ground? 

Through his mental haze, he recognized the humming sound from earlier picking up again in the air. The warm, melodious tune began anew, its aura of peace prodding his senses. But unlike before, this time the song didn’t manage to reach the horribly hollow space that had suddenly sprung forth inside his chest. 

The song crawled to an end. “Now you know how the forest feels.” 

Jamie forced his palms into fists and pressed them to his lap to halt their trembling. “…I don’t like that at all,” he mumbled in a croaking voice. He didn’t want to dwell on her words. He couldn’t, really, because what he’d just felt was appalling, and if the forest truly did feel that way, that would be just… abhorrent, so much so that he couldn’t… his mind rejected the thought, didn’t even attempt to wrap itself around so much sheer devastation. 

His instinct was to flee instantly, lest she sting him with her song a second time, but Jamie could not physically bring himself to move. He numbly fixed his burning eyes on the tangled roots of the forest floor, frozen in place by residual dread. He needed to make these… emotions go away, so he could get himself up, and go. “Don’t… don’t do that again. Please.” 

Grey heard Fear settle into the stranger’s body. It wound within before nestling, comfortable in its new home like a wolf. He didn’t have to say a word for her to know, his bones and skin moaned with panic whether he could hear it or not. 

She thought it fitting that she could hear and feel his skin prickle with agony; smirked at the irony of what he’d nearly taken from the woods while on his stroll. Thievery rewarded with thievery. She couldn’t have played his cards better.

However, at his final words the wolf within her own body - the wolf that had been placed their by flames and the torture of her and her family - nipped at her.

She hated how similar his fears were to her own - the ones she had no choice but to live out every day by simply existing. She was alone - so very alone. If she were the old Grey, if she was that child, she would have wrapped this stranger up in her small arms. She would have let them weep upon her shoulder as she sang them lullabies. She would have lived by her father’s teachings. That it was up to them, as Jabberwockies, to show the other beings of Wonderland that truth by pulling down the veils pinned up by ignorance and fear. That they were not monsters - and were, in fact, the furthest thing from them.

But that was years ago. Back when she was loved and all she ever needed was that love. She wasn’t a monster back then.

She was now.

Grey took several small strides towards him and walked until the tips of her bare toes touched the tip of his feet. Her small frame towered over him, her fogged eyes like two full moons looking out of habit down upon the body she could not see. She didn’t intend to say anything to him, she simply wanted to intimidate him until he ran away. However, as she stood there, hearing every inch of him vibrate with the panic that she could not turn off in herself, she whispered, “I won’t,” before mentally cursing the past Grey she’d silenced away long ago for peering out.

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batteredbarkeep‌:

Emmett was thankful to know fire was just a click of his fingers away, and the flames in themselves were a very powerful thing. However he’d keep that at a last resort, and would rather carry on without a fight. But he knew the stories of Tulgey well enough, to be very awfully aware that the creatures that occupied these woods weren’t really in the business of talking. Hell he wasn’t very sociable, he’d probably fit in great if they weren’t so opposed to outsiders.

As her laugh echoed through the darkness, it made every nerve in Emmett’s body vibrate. She might not seem all that harmful, but he’d be stupid to think she was only just a girl in the woods. Taking a few defensive steps back, slowly releasing the breath he wasn’t aware he was holding onto, Emmett remained as composed as seemed possible in the moment. “Rather unfortunate indeed” he confirmed, watching as she took a step forward, he took two backwards. “There may be danger and trouble afoot in these woods. But they are rather beautiful at night.”

Grey stood in silence at the stranger’s words. She thought back to when she was young - back when she had her eyesight. Over the years, she’d begun to forget how the woods looked, and she was aware of how quickly they changed that her memories of them were tarnished, simply by time. But beyond what the stranger said, the woods were gorgeous. They were breathtaking, in more ways than one. 

The feel of them was lovelier than being read the most stunning story; the smell of them was sweeter than honey and dew drops. The sounds it made were unlike anything in Wonderland. They were sacred - like the stillness of burial grounds. And as much as she tried, Grey could not replicate their beauty.

She wondered how much of that the stranger could see, but nevertheless, the remark made her break a small smile. “Lovelier than dreams,” she added, stopped momentarily in her steps. 

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lucienthemerciful‌:

Every hair on his body was on end. Something was wrong, he just didn’t know what. His senses about danger were normally off in the palace anyway, he had known he was surrounded by it, but normally in woods or forests he felt a lot safer. Not today though, today he knew something was there, and he needed to keep his guard up.

He also knew the stories of Tulgey too well. Perhaps never the safest of place, but he knew his tribe had once lived there. Now none of them would come here. Monsters and nightmares lived there. Though as far as he could tell, it made it no different from the rest of Wonderland. He was sure there was a time when Wonderland was indeed wonderful, but all of his memories said otherwise. He just remembered people talking about suffering.

He looked around, eventually seeing… a girl? He already knew not to base anything on appearance, not when he normally appeared to be the perfect Knight. But a lack of trust was not the same as attacking everyone on sight, and he would only fight if in danger. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to disturb you. I’ll be gone soon”.

Grey closely listened to the stranger’s movements, tensing as she thought she heard the subtle scrape of steel, perhaps from weaponry. “Soon?” she asked, venom practically dripping from her words. Soon was not good enough. It was a gray answer, and she would not be pushed around when these were her woods. 

Soon also meant that the stranger was there for a reason, which made her stiffen with rage even more. No one came to Tulgey Woods; no one, except those who intended to harm it. 

Already she was scanning her mind for the right song to use on this one, picking apart the air for his fears. If he couldn’t make up his mind about leaving immediately, she’d help him figure it out.

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augustus-hawke‌:

Even after the warning, Augustus takes another small step forward. He should probably be scared. It would be wise to be scared by not but that is not the sort he’s always thought of himself as, and so that in mind he shuffles forward a bit further, trying to get a good look at the figure, still.

“Why?” It comes out nearly on its own. “Do you intend to try to hurt me?”

Grey practically laughed in the stranger’s face. She heard the tremble in his voice long before he spoke - heard the small stride in his step as he neared her still. This one, she thought, would almost be too easy to destroy. She was certain she wouldn’t even have to use her magic to do so. When he spoke once more, she couldn’t contain back her laugh - a single gasp out of her mouth more hollow and dark than the night around them. “Does fire intend to burn? Does water intend to drown?” she asked and took a step towards him. 

“No,” she whispered, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “We’re just trying to exist. But it’s what you say we do.”

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cereswitch‌:

Home, huh? You were on the right side of history if you called the Tulgey woods ‘home.’ Olivia leaned a little closer and as she did, so did every flower and every tree. Every plant in her radius curved in -  shifted like some grand audience to turn and face this girl. The witch’s magic was humming a sweet and vibrant tune as it pulsed through her veins; being surrounded by so much forest only made the ceres stronger.  Olivia was the plants and the plants were her, their life force fed off each other in a pure symbiosis. These woods might have been this person’s home, but the ceres was the builder. How many of these trees had she fed with her own magic over the years so that they would grow? How many scars from the Panic had she treated? How many plants now lay in sync with the beat of her heart? If these woods died, Olivia would too and in many ways the vise versa was true as well - the threat of this place and its inhabitants killing her didn’t quite strike the witch as threatening or foreboding. In anything, she let out a soft chuckle.

“That may be,” She swayed lightly on the branch, and around her the trees and plants did too, that same, languid rhythm. In tune. “But seeing how it distinctly hasn’t killed me in the four decades I’ve been here, I’ll take my chances on one more night.”

Something about this girl felt familiar too. In a place like Wonderland plants were just as capable of remembering kindness and holding onto grudges as any other living thing.  Olivia hopped up so that she could stroll along the  branch and get closer to the trunk of the tree. She splayed her palm across the bark and put her ear against it like she was listening for a heartbeat.

“But who knows, there’s a first time for everything isn’t there?” The ceres said ideally as she felt a gentle beat, beat, beat of magic beneath her fingers. Yes, this tree certainly recognized this girl, had felt her walk across its roots before.

“Are you one of the things that wants to kill me?” She conversed, unmoving from her position; finding an unexplainable comfort in it. “Because I can assure you that wouldn’t be the best of ideas.”

Grey heard the plants and trees move of their own will to the stranger before her. Their moving wasn’t malicious - at least, not yet. The sound they made when they moved reminded Grey of raining nights with her mother, sheltered in the safety of her body. The feeling made Grey involuntarily smile - if only for a moment. Yes, the plants trusted the stranger, but Grey did not yet.

She felt a small comfort though knowing that she did not have to harm this stranger for harming the woods. Perhaps, another reason. 

“I’m unsure,” Grey replied, listening closely to the stranger’s every move across the trees. “It depends. Mostly on why you’re here. Depending on that, you can help me decide if its one of my best ideas or not.”

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thehattersapprentice‌:

That’s not true, Jamie wanted to argue. He would have loved to see the blue-scaled creature even more in person, if they were lurking around the forest. That would matter far more than the shadowy hollow left by their previous molted form. But before he could reply to the closed-eyed stranger, a song settled heavily on the air. It was a… gentle yet weighty melody. Lovely and… toasty, like standing just near enough to a fire on a summer night. 

Jamie began to drift off, swaying just slightly on his feet, hypnotized by the sound and the warmth as the words he’d wanted to say slipped from his grasp like grains of sand. At the same time as he lost himself in the song, a name rose in the back of his mind. Jabberwocky? The awestruck and fearful recognition barely had time to bubble to the surface before the song began to twist into something different. 

Woven into the melody was a soft yet unmistakable sound: the sharp, rough unraveling of a spool of thread. Then, a similar, yet more deadly sound: the thread scraping against the fabric of his shirt collar. He gasped and tried to wrench himself out of the way but it had already snaked around his neck. He choked as his throat tightened. The thread… it was was snagged on the hooks of the wall behind him (not the wall, the trees, it must be the tree bark, he was in a forest, not the workshop) and he was pulled back sharply as the thread moved to strangle him.

Panicked, Jamie clawed at his neck desperately, but there was… nothing. Nothing physical was throttling him, or rather, he just couldn’t find it. Because he could still feel it, and his eyes were bulging, and he was suffocating, trapped in a noose of his own carelessness, and his imagination was assaulted with images of his hanging corpse, bloated and limp and rotting, and he wouldn’t be found, because no one would bother to notice he was missing. Time would pass and a cold layer dust would settle on the counters of the workshop as well as his dead body, and no one would care. The images were overwhelming; there was no room in his mind for anything but sheer desolation and terror. “No” was all he could choke out. 

Grey felt the tightness upon his lungs within her own. She tasted a cold layer of dust upon the tip of her tongue, felt a horrible, terrible longing similar to the one she lived with every day. It made her feel momentarily bad about what she was doing to the stranger, and she tried her best to snuff out that thought as quickly as one blew out a candle. 

Chewing the inside of her bottom lip as she heard him writhing about upon the ground, she picked her brain apart to figure out how far she wanted to take things this time. And though her fingers wiggled to shuffle more from the cards she’d pulled from his mind, Grey stopped upon one of his. The one that seemed to be hurting him the most from all his fears she’d unleashed: loneliness. 

With a snap of her fingers, she tugged the thread away. The taste of dust cleared from her tongue, replaced with that of the cold leaf-drenched air, and her lungs opened once more and filled like balloons.

She gave him the peace of humming a while longer, the warmth of autumn, evenings tucked at home, diving into the pages of a fantastic book circling around them. Then, when she had no more happy thoughts to spend, she stopped her song.

“There,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “Now you know how the forest feels.”

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cereswitch‌:

In her youth, she’d embraced her abilities as a ceres with open arms. She’d fall asleep in trees. She’d coax saplings from dry, unforgiving earth. She’d shrink down to the size of a daisy and leap from petal to petal. Her favorite was when she would do so only to spring off off the leaf of some wildflower and return to her full size mid leap, using her momentum to tumble through the foliage, snickering away when Gideon couldn’t find her because she’d managed to camouflage herself perfectly with flora around her. In those moments Olivia felt part of the very earth itself.

Things hadn’t been quite the same in twenty years, had they? No more shrinking, no more leaping from petal to petal, no more playful games of hide and seek. No. Instead, on rare occasions, when her heart grew too heavy, or when she needed to disappear, she’d loose herself to strolls amongst plants. 

She still fell asleep in trees though.

Like today.

Sleep was harder and harder to come by these days and usually she brewed herself something dark and rich to help with the matter. More often than not though, the witch would just wait till exhaustion knocked her out.

On that day, Olivia tumbled out of the tree sleep had caught her unawares in. Her hands just missed the lowest branch and her outstretched fingers felt a familiar dormant magic push through them as vines whipped out to catch her. They tangled around her, like a web, and snared her as securely as any spiders-web would. She’d let out a startled yelp - completely involuntary - and she could feel the forest rustle with the disturbance around her, like a stone dropped into a lake.

But then she, and her plants, settled. And the ceres let the vines gently guide her to the forest floor till she was standing upright. With a wave her hand, they slithered back to their branches like snakes. 

It was around then, just as she leaned down to pat down the earth and bless it with whatever magical residue was left in her veins, that she became acutely aware of another person. There - just beyond those pillars of trees. She stepped back, let her magic coat her in a shimmer so that she melded with the dark greens of the evening. She jumped from the shadow of tree to the shadow of tree till she was just a few trunks away from the woman - before crawling up one of the branches and swinging herself over to sit on a sturdy branch. There she uncloaked herself. The ceres shifted so that a dagger of moonlight fell across her and revealed her position.

“Haven’t you heard? It’s dangerous to be out in these woods at these hours.”

None of this was said unkindly. If anything, it was said with genuine curiosity. Pretty simple subtext: And just, what are you doing out here?

(As if she just hadn’t fallen out of a tree seconds earlier)

Grey had just finished nestling the grieving plant safe into her stolen bag when she caught several sounds in the trees high over her head. She rolled her eyes. Even without her eyesight, she knew exactly where this being was - what with all the noise they likely thought they weren’t making. 

Over her years of living within Tulgey Woods, Grey came across all sorts of beings. There were the wanderers who’d foolishly stumbled within the woods and couldn’t find their ways out, there were the ones who lived there - like her - and paid no attention to any of its other residents, and then there were the ones who ventured in as if the branches of Tulgey wouldn’t devour them whole. Making all sorts of noise and disrupting the peaceful imbalance of the night.

She had a feeling she knew what type of being this stranger was. 

“Haven’t you heard?” Grey mockingly repeated. “These woods are my home.” She said this with such a distaste in her mouth. Grey was a Jabberwocky - likely the last of her kind after her entire family and others were tortured and wiped out in Tulgey Woods and she had no choice but to hide there.

“The other side of the woods have probably heard you, with all that noise you’re making up in the trees. It’s probably thought up a dozen different ways to kill you.”

Grey had already thought of two dozen.

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batteredbarkeep‌:

Despite what some might think, Emmett wasn’t at all reckless. He might be hot-headed and violent at times, but he never put himself in hotter water than he knew how to get out of. He wasn’t a man that often intentionally put himself in danger or harms way, but rather stayed so far in his bubble that nobody could ever reach him.

However wandering the edge of Tulgey woods had always been something he knew was dangerous, but that he did often. As far as what he needed as a Pixie, Fevered Forest during the day was the perfect match. Surrounded by his own kind and the sunlight shining through the endless trees, you’d think he would have no desire to be anywhere near Tulgey woods. But he was more drawn there than he ever was to Fevered Forest.

Maybe it was the fact he couldn’t stand being near other Pixies, feeling as though he wasn’t truly one of them. And in the day watching the sunlight glisten off their wings, knowing he’d lost that. But there was something about the darkness of not only night but Tulgey, that had him venturing on the borderline. And usually that was all he did, walk the perimeter, but on this night Emmett figured going a little further in wouldn’t hurt.

Toying with the fire that danced on his fingertips, he used it as a light source to guide his way. He watched the flame move across his palm, and sway in the small breeze around him, the woods had a heavy silence to it. Like he was venturing further into a place he had no right being. Stepping past a tree and looking to his right he spotted a silhouette, that stopped him dead in his tracks.

“I’m not looking for any trouble” he commented, closing his palm and extinguishing his fire for safety. Emmett knew the other might be a lot more dangerous than he ever could be.

Grey felt the unnatural warmth of fire within Tulgey Woods before she heard the Pixie speak. It sent her skin cold - colder than it always was - and forced her head to revisit the last glimpses she had of her family; of hearing her father tortured, her mother and brother Ichor burned to death simply because they were jabberwockies. Simply because they were different from everyone else. Of her brother Petr shouting at her to flee before he too was killed. It was the last image she’d ever see after the fire burned away her sight - the last of their kind blind and once helpless.

She took an instinctive step away from the heat, catching her breath as her heart hammered in her chest. At the Pixie’s words and the fire vanishing, Grey forced herself to gather her composure. With her threat gone, she couldn’t help but let out a small yet powerful laugh. If he wasn’t looking for trouble, he’d certainly wandered into the wrong forest. 

“That’s unfortunate,” she whispered, taking a step forward. “Trouble is all you’ll find here.”