Kits Lavellan waded into the Well of Sorrows, keenly aware of Morrigan’s eyes boring into her back. She would have liked to turn back and say something snide, maybe gloating, to that shem witch—but she was immediately distracted by an onslaught of energy.
It was like walking through a crowded room unnoticed: glimpses of faces, clips of conversation, a shuffling of emotions and pieces of a shared memory. Forms of spirits seemed to brush by her, preoccupied, but when she turned to look at them they were gone. They moved through her and around her in strange loops, perpetually in the corner of her eye.
Kits hesitated only a moment before cupping the water into her hands and taking a drink. The spirits froze suddenly and all turned to face her before she was plunged into darkness. The lights of their eyes were the last things to fade.
[Spirit + Loop: Inktober 2021]