hatsanddaggers
Her thoughts washed over him. Panic, pain, powerful echoes of terrible times. What was he to do? He’d tried to offer comfort, whispering soft words to her in an effort to ease the grip that terror had on her heart. But the fear proved stronger, enough to wake her before he could flee. What did he do?
He’d drawn upon his power as a spirit to hide himself from her sight and was standing near the door, but he could not escape. To open the door would mean giving away the fact that he was there, whether she could see him or not.
Echoes of the dreaded night still haunted her, screams, shouts, groans of last breath within the bloodied moon of the forest. Rage, anger, fear, disappointment, heartbreak it all was, the camp in flames after he had taken his last plea, the desperate trial of asking her for mercy, but that was taken when he had chosen coin over her head.
Images still resonated within her mind, the mirage still haunting, her dead husband still a part of her head, a wave of disgust gushing through. - Is there someone there? - Tyyne tried yet again, starting to think it truly was just her imagining.