closed starter for: @miles-easton
location: grand lake
Midnight. Whispers in a dead language from torn lips, calling upon constellations stripped of light. Cold hands on the hilt of a knife and she sets its bare teeth against her delicate flesh, blood flowing out like honey. She keeps her eyes shut, the spell ripped from her skin and it feels like her flesh is being turned from the inside out, demons clawing their way out from her spine. Lavinia grits her teeth together. Even as it feels like her blood is boiling, tendrils of blackened smoke billowing from the cut, taking the form of the damned or holy — it doesn’t matter, not really, as long as she succeeds.
And then, nothing.
The world settles back around her, crisp and cold, water running against rock, the winds moving from the trees, as if tittering at the witch who lost her way.
Small tremors run through her body but she senses the presence, perhaps later than she should have — further proof that the magic within her veins is lost beyond repair. A quick flick of her wrist and the knife flies in the direction of the intruder, Lavinia’s gaze snapping to their direction.