[OPEN] How We See

[Xnnn]

Every one of the cougar’s senses remained fixed on the girl, though he was aware of the others. The dropping temperature and the unfamiliar sound of the crackling ice were perhaps more distracting, as the intense cold was something the kelvic was not used to. Still, he watched silently, as the man offered the garment and the girl accepted. His unblinking eyes took in the spark that wafted from her but he did not turn from her, even when his nose and ears picked up the unmistakable presence of fire. And then . . . the other . . . He had felt it before it came, the slightest tremors rippling from his feet to the tips of his ears and tails. That had been what he had sensed a few moments before, in his bones – the impending shake up, not her footfalls. The muscles of his haunches bunched, his head lowered, and as it began to quiver and build, he was ready. With a great leap forward, he sprang towards her, paws grabbing at the slick surface of the multi-hued water. Tight, hard muscle coiled and released, bringing him closer – almost upon her. One more spring and in mid-stride, his form shifted – wavering and shimmering and then reforming. As he reached for her, there were hands and fingers in place of sharp tearing claws. The quaking beneath them had them all wobbling like heat waves over the desert, and she was falling – right into his careful embrace. The agility of his cat form still clung to him and he twisted and they fell, his body acting as a buffer between hers and the granite surface of the ice. As the darkness erupted around them with a terrifying cacophony of sound, and lights that seemed to have been unleashed from the aurora itself, Xnnn cowered inwardly, his impulse to turn tail and run – to seek refuge . . . somewhere . . . almost overwhelming. But with Caoin pressed against him, instinctively he drew his arms more tightly about her, drawing her back as he himself watched the flickering lights distractedly. Then blessed silence – and the cessation of the whirlwind of swirling color. Every sense refocused on the girl that he was meant to protect, and Xnnn watched her face as she in turn watched the young man – and what he saw there gripped at his chest. He felt her stiffen in his arms, before she screamed and pulled away to cover her face with her delicate hands. Finally, needing to know the face of this enemy, Xnnn turned uneasy eyes towards the flame, and saw . . . Elymas! For one fraction of a second, Xnnn almost forgot himself – almost leapt up and rushed forward to throw himself at that beloved form. But in the next instant, the feelings of that last night they had shared together washed over and under and through him, leaving only pain and bewilderment in its wake. The mark in Elymas’ hand burned brighter with each passing moment – and he felt the tug at his heart. He heard the name, but it was not Elymas’ voice that formed the word. Aachym! Aaaachym! The sound was rich and deep and powerful, booming in the kelvic’s sensitive ears. Who was the one that the Benshira had called upon? Yahal? Already those memories – those stories that the man had shared with him, were fading, and Xnnn felt awash with some unnamed sorrow. The image of Elymas began to flicker and waver and in his place was forming that of an old man, a creased face, a kindly yet stern visage. Achym! The voice was more commanding – more demanding. It called to him, some part of him that yearned to obey, though he had no inkling what he was expected to do - except – leave the girl and follow . . . Unsure, his eyes turned again to Caoin whose face remained hidden behind her hands, obviously in a tremendous state of agitation and distress. For the first time, he saw the collar of tattoo which wrapped about her neck, and without thought his fingers went to it, to her. His chest heaved, with a great sigh, and in the next heart beat he had turned from her, leaping up and springing over the intervening flame, reaching for the wavering figure’s throat, with razor sharp claws as once more he shifted.

[Jameson Kindle]

Chaos erupted around Jameson. The world around them was quaking. The plant, the fire, the ice. The cocky man, the cougar skin-changer, the screaming, shaking, half naked girl, and, there… Before him stood the darkest part of his past, his worst enemy and bloodline, all in one. James – his father – stood clear as day before him. His height made even Jameson look small. His eyes, his hair, his physique, all a strange replica of the man before him. Jameson’s chest began to heave. The one thing in the world he thought he would never have to deal with again, and here it was. The shadow of his past. James wrung the iron fire poker in his hand, giving Jameson a hard passing glance as he looked around. He didn’t seem to take notice to any of the other presences around them, and at this point, Jameson had forgotten them too. The solid, cold stare made the hairs on Jameson’s body stand up, electrified. ”Making a real life for yourself, aren’t you, Jameson?” The man’s voice was deep and thick with disgust. ”It’s your fault she died, you know. If you had just lived up to our expectations, your mother would still be alive today. Even I know that she – “ ”Stop.” Jameson lifted a hand to silence him. ”She died of heartache. We both know you hit her. You hit her! Out of everything she did for you, no matter how much she loved you and begged you to stop, I sat by and let you abuse us, a-and you didn’t even care! You’re a sorry excuse for a man, and I will never – ever – be you!!” Jameson’s voice grew with fury and rage as he advanced on the man, pointing a finger in his face. He wanted nothing more in that exact moment but to strike him down. He wanted to snatch that petching iron rod from his hands and beat him with it, show him what it felt like. It took every bit of restraint in him to not oblige his deepest, darkest desire. He would not become the monster that James was. Jameson swallowed as he tried to bite back more angry words. For a moment, he simply closed his eyes, and hoped that the apparition would disappear. Please please please… He begged, feeling the heat of anger creep into his body.

[Landon Mora]

"Caoin…" Landon tried the words out on his own lips after she spoke them. "Very beautiful name." His smile was legitiment. When he flirted he truly did have intention behind the act. Very rarely did he flirt with people who he did not want to get to know better. Although, he had to admit that at times, a few choice words to someone who needed them could go a long way.

Landon smirked playfully. "Oh, I'm sorry. Is the feline not scary enough for you?" There was a clear hint of joking in his tone but deep within him he was a bit envious of the girl's lack of fear. "I suppose you've seen much scarier, miss blouse and panties." Perhaps rarely leaving the city had made made him a bit soft. He was disgusted at the thought. He knew one day he would leave Lhavit and see the world. Gods, it was about time. "Regardless, the offer stands. Even if you get a bit colder, I'm here."

The man frowned slightly as the girl walked away but he could not blame her in a way. Whatever was going on with the man and his strange plant was quite eye-catching. At least the flames were. They did not hold his attention for long. The kitten had pounced and had his sights on Caoin. Landon panicked. What could he do? He did not have a weapon, nor did he knew how to use one. "Stop!" The words were laced with hypnotic suggestion as they shot from his mouth. Would hypnotism work here? He had to hope so. There was not much else Landon could do, short of smacking the cat with a stick.

When the pounce seemed to collide with Caoin, a man was in the place of the cat. He was turning to cushion her fall. It brought up the question as to why the cat pounced on her in the first place. Caoin was safe though and perhaps that was what truly mattered.

"Dear Zintila…" Those were the only words that seemed to escape from the man's lips as the lights appeared. He looked to Jameson, the first person he had found in this place but he was preoccupied with something else. He was yelling at the boy with the plant. When Landon turned to look, to find out what the boy had done to make the man so angry, he saw her. Mikala.

Landon always thought that if he ever saw Mikala again he would have been happy, even elated. He would have another chance with her. Looking at her now, he felt nothing but anger. "I don't want to see you. I don't care where you go, just leave." The words were thick with hypnotic suggestion. Mikala had left somewhat of a tear in him and he had finally patched it up. He had all but forgotten about her and now she had the audacity to show up again. "I finally moved on from you. Why couldn't you just let me be happy?" The girl seemed to look at him curiously. "But you never offered me your coat… You were the first person who made me feel important. Why are you so kind to her when you were kind to me first?" Her golden eyes were locking on Caoin. She didn't like that she had to share what she had thought was her's. "You left Mikala, not me. You moved on and left Lhavit." The girl's eyes filled with tears as she walked forward toward's him. "But Landon…" Landon's blue eyes were filled with distaste. Was it nice to see the girl again? Of course it was. He had moved on though. The girl was wrong for him. She had been nothing more than a teenaged mistake and she had not been worth a moment of effort he had put into her. "So you are allowed to move on, but I can't? It doesn't work like that. I gave my best for you. I tried harder than anything to be someone you could find a friend in and you never put in any effort." A hand came up to her arm, fingers lightly gripping into her skin. "I cannot chase after you forever. After a while, I want to know you'd be willing to do the same with me." Landon knew this was what he had to do. As much as he had admired her and enjoyed her company, her time in his life was over. "I want to you leave. There will always be a part of me that wants you around but I am not a child anymore. I cannot play your game anymore."

Mikala didn't have a choice. She had to listen. It was not that she wanted to or that Landon was convincing. The demand was Landon's desire and the girl was compelled to fulfill it. Landon watched as she walked away, heading towards where the boy with the plant had been. She seemed to walk into his body, become him, and like that, she was gone. It hurt, but it was refreshing. He could not chase after her forever.

[Seodai]

Seodai was gone. Or, at least, the figure of the boyish blonde with callouses on hands that had lovingly worked Denvali dirt for the entirety of his life had disappeared entirely. He had become the vision each dreamer saw, for better or worse. That is, at least, until the storm wailing around them became more electric. It was still snow that fell, quickly creating a wasteland of white all around them, excepting their protective circle. Despite that, the clouds behaved as if it were a heavy spring thunderstorm. Lightning danced across the sky in unpredictable arcs and unhappy flashes, bringing with it a thunder that rattled painfully inside each of their skulls. The fire seemed to be in competition with the storm, and it raged and roared as if it were sentient, angry. In a particularly awe inspiring flash, whatever magic warped their vision and controlled their thoughts began to blur around the edges. The faces all became one, yet were somehow distinct. The face of an older, more stern Jameson melded into a handsome Drykas youth, into a travel-worn Benshira with kind eyes, into the figure of a God. From Yahal it became a beautiful girl, with red hair and lips pulled into a morose frown. The images, the faces flickered so quickly that it would have been impossible to focus wholly on one. That is, until the leaping cougar found his mark. When sharp claw found purchase in malleable flesh, the face remained as that of Yahal, the patron god of the Benshira, the god of his father. "Oh, Achym..." The kind voice of the god of faith intoned, loving the animal as if he were human, even as those claws ripped at divine flesh and made it bleed. "You mustn't forget. Don't forget. With a final shudder of thunder above them, the storm quietened. In the aftermath, the Beloved of the desert people was no more. In his place lay a young farmer, with blonde curls and wounds that his cursed blood would never enable him to recover from. In his hand was the fruit, the damned fruit, and it's once purple skin was now an ugly, smoldering black - just as his hand had become. As the cougar found his haunches, dissuaded from his attack for whatever reason, Seodai the man rolled to his side. He coughed, and his spittle was blood. Unfurling fingers watched the fruit fall just out of his reach, and the tear he shed for it was claret. Each dreamer was struck, in the silence that followed, with one universal emotion. Running through them all, as powerful as the blood in the veins or the air in their lungs, as innate and intuitive as the very beating of their hearts, was the knowledge that they'd missed something. Whatever it was they had been meant to hear had been lost when the cougar had pounced. And, most of all, it felt like they had missed something important. Complicating this unified emotion was the one which came next. Like a wave it overcame them, washing away any possibility to feel otherwise. For one it was the overwhelming sense that they had to go. The fire itself seemed a danger, the magical circle of light they stood in. And the bloodied boy struggling to breathe around his wounds, staining the place where he lay scarlet, was somehow all to blame. For another, the exact opposite seemed to be true. The wind outside their circle was nasty, and snow had piled up to their knees. The baying of bloodhounds was as real as the earth they stood upon, and it seemed that the protective light was a safety net to which they must cling. Yet another dreamer would feel as if those messages, their message, the message that had been lost should be the focus of their energies. Almost divine in importance, it would be almost a point of obsession. Reviving the farmer and somehow invoking once more the spirits of the past that had taken a hold of him would be of paramount importance. Finally, Jameson himself would embody the final emotion. His focus would be entirely fixated upon the fruit. The black, scorched thing that had once been beautiful, lovely. Until Caoin had lit it aflame with her breath. Though he might not understand the importance of it, that it was the most important thing in the situation would be clear to him, even as the mark atop his hand began to burn with a nagging persistence. As for Seodai, he curled to one side, groaning in pain. "Cian," he gasped, around blood that strangled his speaking. He was bleeding to death on the snow, while the myriad of conflicting emotions made it unclear as to exactly what the party of dreamers standing around him should do. NoteI thought it would be fun to make you all choose which emotion your character would embody. And since everyone can't go first, you might get stuck with one you wouldn't have chosen, which should make it a fun challenge. I had to single out Jameson, sorry to ruin your fun, Daniel.

[Caoin]

Everyone else in the nightmarish reality faded for Caoin, save for herself and two others, Xnnn and the figure that appeared to her as her brother. She could not bring herself to move as she remained in Xnnn’s arms, her nails digging into the flesh of her face as she tried to turn her eyes away from the figure of her brother. She could not, she could only stare between her fingers at his ragged form, his rotting face, the arrow protruding from the bloody wound at his chest. That damned arrow. That cursed, bloody arrow that had come from none other than her own bow, her own hands.

“I’m sorry,” Caoin sobbed, her body shaking both with the force of her sobs and with the fear that froze her veins. The fire that should have warmed her, the fire that kept the cold of the snow and the storm at bay, did nothing for her. “Oh Gods! I’m sorry,” she cried, “It was an accident. It wasn’t my fault.” She tried to rationalize it, and somewhere deep down, she knew that she spoke the truth, but she had never been able to fully let go of the guilt. Some part of her still felt responsible. It had been her arrow that had pierced the chest of her beloved Ruith, the brother that had always taken such great care with her. She had been so careless. So very careless. And now Caoin watched as the man turned cougar again and threw himself at the figure that appeared as her brother.

“No,” Caoin cried out again, her hand reaching. She had killed him once. She had watched Ruith die once. She couldn’t watch him die again. “Ruith," she cried out in helpless agony. It was all in vain, or so she thought.

The storm raged around the circle of light that protected them, snow and lightning. The figure that had been Seo and then her brother shifted forms again. First an older man, then Ruith, the figure of a good came next, and finally a girl. All of the forms seemed to melt together, shifting, changing until Xnnn’s claws tore into the flesh of the divine Yahal, and then the only thing that was left was the man that been there from the beginning. As the storm around them quieted, as Seodai settled into his own shape, Caoin froze in place on her hands and knees, one hand still outstretched, reaching for the brother that was no longer there. She had lost him all over again.

There was only silence in her ears now, the noise of everything around her faded. She felt, deep in her icy veins, the knowledge that something had been missed, something lost. The cougar’s attack had caused something important to be lost. All of it, everything that she felt raged within her. The loss of her brother, both time, the loss of something important. It was all there within that light. She couldn’t take it. She couldn’t stand to be there any longer. This world, this nightmare. She looked at Seodai, bloodied by the cougar’s claws, and though she knew it wasn’t Ruith, she could still only see her brother’s face, her mind’s eye and her guilt maintaining the illusion.

Caoin’s pushed herself back, away from Seodai, from the fire, from the horror of her nightmare. She scrambled back along the ground, her feet and hands slipping on the ground below as she tried to move and climb to her feet at the same time. She struggled, practically throwing her body upwards and around as she clambered to her feet and turned away from it all. Caoin staggered forward, tears blurring her vision, her body still shaking with those uncontrollable sobs. Her body moved, as if on its own, her mind having gone numb. She moved, she stumbled and ran towards the edge of the circle.

She didn’t how far she would get, she only knew that she needed to leave. She was filled with the overwhelming sense that she must go. That fire, that boy, bloodied as her brother had been. She could not face them. It was her fault that the fire was there. It was her fault that the boy had been injured, just as it was her fault that her brother was dead. Caoin knew and felt the need to be anywhere but that nightmare.

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[Xnnn]

He was compelled to get rid of it. He was compelled to take out the source of both the voice that tugged at his mind, trying to entice him away from her, and the same source of anguish for the girl he was meant to watch over. With very little feeling, one way or the other, about the right or wrong of what he did, claws sliced into searing hot flesh and the two fell as one, the cougar’s paws ending up on the figure’s chest. Xnnn looked down momentarily at the shifting, shimmering form, but the fact that what had been a young man, and then his first and best friend, and next a god, made little impact on the simple psyche. There was a hollow echo inside him – some sense of deep dread that something had been . . . missed. But he felt no remorse. He couldn’t possibly understand what was going on around him, so he ignored it, his work done. Turning, his eyes fixed on Caoin and a deep rumble emanated from his chest when he saw her scrabbling backwards over the icy surface of their sanctuary. Ignoring the bleeding form of the young man, he trotted quickly to the girl. There was a growing sense of uneasiness within him, and his ears pricked at the sounds coming to them on the swirling winds outside their invisible fortress. He heard the hounds and he knew at least that much – they could not leave this place. He had to make her stop. He needed to make her stay – here – where he could at least try to protect her. The snow was falling near to them in blizzard like proportions at the same time as lightning sparked above and around and thunder cracked in their heads. The cougar’s approach slowed as he reached Caoin, and he walked steadily towards her, around her – behind her – making a barrier between her and the course she would choose. His large gold-green eyes looked up into her stricken face and despite the turmoil inside – the growing fear of what was coming at them – his cougar features could not configure themselves into any expression that would convey that knowledge. His large mouth opened and he spoke in perfect unaccented Pavi. “You must stay. Caoin . . . “ He moved to run his furry head against her thigh. “They are coming. You must stay.”

[Jameson Kindle]

As Jameson opened his eyes, he found himself in a whirlwind of confusion and distress. Where the dreaded image of his father once stood, with all the burning hatred of the past in his eyes, now laid the green thumb boy. His heart thumped hard in his chest as he shook his head, confused. Something was wrong. The boy, his father, and now the boy again. The girl was crying and shaking, the wild cat was now nuzzling the woman, the man was – what was he doing? What were any of them doing at this point? The boy was bleeding from his throat, croaking out something inaudible. As Jameson dropped down to examine the wound, too afraid to touch, he looked from the man, to the boy, to the girl, to the beast, and back again. Lastly, he looked inwardly in on himself. They had missed something, a message, a vision, a mission, something. Anything. And now they would never know what it was. Whatever this boy was here to show them was lost now. Why? What, exactly? Reaching out with a hand marked with the silvery-grey stain of Eyris, Jameson gently touched the scorched fruit. Its surface, once fleshy with life, was ashy and fragile. It had to have embodied something, but what? Why had the boy been cultivating the plant? Why had he been the victim? Something was symbolized here, and yet it was beyond his grasp. He reached down with both hands to scoop the fruit up, and looked to the boy. ”What are you trying to tell us?” He demanded gently. ”This isn’t real, you’re not dying. You can’t die; you’re here with us for a reason.” The fruit in his hands immediately collapsed in on itself, breaking down to dusty ash. It fell through his fingers like sand through a sieve. ”No… No, no, no…” Worthless was the only way Jameson could think to describe the way he felt. His mark was proving defective, as he search deep within to pull some sort of vision of its meaning and drew nothing but darkness. The dream that had apparently started off as a vision of sorts was becoming nothing more than a tragic nightmare that he could not wake from.

[Landon Mora]

Why was this all happening? There had to be a reason, some message that had not been received. There was not order here. Just strange happenings falling in one after another, all seeming to revolve around one person. The farmer. This is the message that had been missed. Whatever was going on here had to be the working of the boy with the plant.

Landon walked forward, his blue eyes seeming to burn into the boy who was bleeding onto the ground. He felt his anger in him, almost animalistic in a sense. This boy was a threat. Things had been fine here until he arrived.

"You…" Landon's words almost sounded like a growl as he looked down at the boy. He watched as he bled, deciding whether to help first or give him a piece of his mind. "I don't know where we are or how we got here but all of this… shyke seems to be revolving around you." What right did the farmer have to pull Mikala into this. He had all but banished her from his mind and now she was fresh again. Biting at the edges of his consciousness.

Whatever had willed Mikala forward had chosen the wrong person to bring out from Landon. The girl was out of bounds, even for Sabastian to speak of. All around him, Landon saw the other people being plagued by what the boy had brought forth. "Are you happy with this? Is this your show of intelligence, forcing people to face what they are trying to hide away?" The man was climbing higher and higher into his anger. His, blue eyes seeming as though they were trying to burn through the farmer. "You don't have the right to make people face what they don't want to see."

Perhaps it was just a dream, or maybe it was the spirits themselves but Landon saw the ghosts of Seodai's past behind his body, leaning over his bleeding wounds. His passed sister, his gone and dead relatives. Landon was used to speaking with the dead, but never in a place like this. "You have no hope of helping him." The words were spoken from the young girl's mouth. She was Seodai's sister but different, perhaps a bit older. Not in looks, but in the way she spoke. "I didn't think I could. I don't know the first thing about medicine." His gaze met the girl's. She was fair, even in her ghostly state. "It is the curse of our blood. It never stops flowing." Landon did not understand why the girl was explaining this to him. He had never treated a wound before. Ghosts had a habit of being confusing and this left Landon no closer to an answer than before.

Turning to face the others, Landon called out. "Does anyone know medicine? I can't help him. I don't know how." Looking back to the boy, Landon saw something, someone better yet, that was not there before. Another spirit had joined the group of Seodai's ancestors. A boy who seemed to be unable to take his eyes off of Caoin. An arrow stood proudly from his chest, blood running from it's wound. It was all so confusing. Was what the farmer made happen real, or were the ghosts? Where they really just one? The boy walked forward, phasing through Seodai's body. "My sister… I need her…" He walked, still wounded even in death, toward his sister. Could anyone else see him? "Caoin…" The girl had already been through so much. "Caoin… can you see him?"

[Seodai]

With the torrent of emotion swirling around them, tugging and pulling each one in a different direction, Seodai the farmer had little input. He lay on snow that was too quickly becoming red, his bright blues becoming glassy as he stared blankly out at the charred fingertips which curled idly in front of him. There was nothing in this snow for him but death. An end. He imagined Cian there, with patient hands and the voice of calm. He imagined the power, the energy of his healing kiss, his touch. He imagined how it would feel to be whole again, to stand and explain. But all of these were just imaginings and, as the crowd waffle in indecisiveness, Seodai felt very sleepy. With a sigh that sparkled a strange, iridescent blue, Seodai allowed his eyes to close. The magic of his breath danced out of cracked lips in a swirling tendril, buoyed by the breeze within their circle. It expanded as it moved, until the dome of their protection was nearly taken up with it. And, as the farmer took a shuddering breath, the stream of color seemed to shudder with energy. When he exhaled in death, the sound was too loud. It echoed with eerie finality, quieting the storm around them. The pathetic pounding of the Denvali heart was somehow audible to each of them, as it weakly beat out another thud, two. And then it was over. Seodai was gone, and the thread of strange blue energy was taken up by the other dreamers in their very next breath. It was cool and sweet as it filled nostril and throat, becoming heat instead as it coiled at their very center. With the passing of the farmer there were consequences, just as their had been at the passing of the fruit. The invisible barrier that had been so protective over them was broken. The rush of frigid air swept in quickly. The fire sizzled out and died without smoke, without ember. The storm abated, and there was only quiet. Just the sound of their own breathing, the beating of their own hearts. On the horizon morning broke, more quickly than it should. Syna's light rose in a visible trajectory, until it stood over them like the midday sun. It was freezing, but at least there was the warmth of sunlight to guide them. In the crackling quiet, then unspoken question hung in the brittle air. What next?

[Caoin]

Caoin stopped in her tracks as the cougar interfered with her escape. What was he saying to her? What was it he was trying to tell her? His words seemed far away to begin with, and then slowly she registered that he was trying to tell her that she shouldn’t go. There was someone else outside of their protective bubble that was coming, she could only assume that they were coming for the group. Perhaps because they had injured the farmer. What did it really matter though? The mess had started with her, and if she was to be punished, perhaps that punishment was justified. Caoin’s knees gave beneath her and she dropped to the ground in front of the cougar, with her back to the fire and everything within its protective bubble except for Xnnn, who had kept her from leaving the light. She didn’t have the will to run any farther. Her brother’s ghost within the circle, enemies without… where was there left for her to run?

She sat on the ground, her legs sprawled out to her side, propping herself up with her hands. Her body was covered in sweat despite the cold around them. Sweat from running, sweat from fear. And then she heard Landon’s voice, asking if she could see him. She knew that Landon was referring to her brother. She shook her head slowly and spoke through her sobbing, “No,” she choked out, “I can’t… I don’t want to… don’t make me look at him like that, please…” she was begging, begging Landon, begging her brother, begging whatever force had thrown that terrible memory in her face. The cougar and his baying hounds were in front of her, Landon and the horrible reminder of what had happened to her brother were at her back. She couldn’t face any of them; her gaze simply remained on the ground.

The blue energy that Seodai had released filled that protective bubble and crept around the figures within it, wrapping them in its mysterious presence. Caoin never even noticed, her awareness of her surroundings had completely changed. She was no longer aware of much of anything. She barely noticed the pounding heartbeat that died out, and she did not notice when she breathed in the blue energy. Caoin never noticed when the fire died out and the barrier disappeared, or the rush of cold that came with the passing of their protection. The rise of Syna failed to draw her attention, and her slowly dropping body temperature never registered in her mind. Caoin was broken.

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