the frigid air feels colder, almost like death, as they caress kit’s arms. “i offer you these in humble asking for guidance.” he says, and the candlelight flickers, ever so slightly. “i ask for a sign, guidance in our need to find you, to find the others.” behind closed eyelids, kit sees a miasma of black smoke surrounding him, endless and foreboding. even to the son of witchcraft, the pool of inky blackness that swirls around him in this dreamy dimension is creepily surreal. “you are the guiding light that cuts through the darkness on the darkest of days.” he focuses, and barely peeking through the blanket of smog does he catch a glimpse of a four-legged creature. a feeling of dread washes over kit, churning his stomach and squeezing his heart. it feels like sleep paralysis, the way he’s frozen by fear. “if you can hear me, give me a sign. please.” kit sees the wolf-like creature turn, and pounce, its visage so terrifying that kit’s heart seizes in his chest. a blood-curdling scream pierces through him, muffled words, then... silence, as kit falls unconscious to the ground.
