The Woods, All Day and All Night Tuesday

[endsthegame]

It had been a night of outreach, a night of dreams-- a night of teal deer skittering restlessly around the same tiny clearing in the middle of the woods, illuminated by a soft glow.

All night, the grass around the stone had folded away from it. Now it laid there, alight both in sunlight and in darkness, singing its song across the island.

If you dream them, they will come...

[ open for anyone to come and touch the stone, or stumble around trying to find it... anyone touching the stone is NFB. ]

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[harpy-daughter.livejournal.com]

There was something on the island the past few days that had been calling to the Blood in Surreal the way nothing else had in years, and so she'd been out in the woods for the past day, following the whispers that resonated in her bones.

Imagine her disappointment when she found a rock. A rock practically radiating some sort of Craft, but still a rock. And Surreal, not being a Queen or Widow or having any particular type of Craft beyond her own abilities as a witch, investigated in the only way she could:

Poking at it. Physically and magically, and occasionally with a sharp object, but after a few hours she was forced to concede that she couldn't get anything else out of it and decided to let powerful rocks lie.

Especially since she kept getting the feeling of something watching her, and that never boded well.

[furnaceface]

Jono had intended to go back to the Boards after his radio broadcast this morning. After all, he had a lot of work to do, and very little time in which to do it. But he'd been distracted today, daydreams of memories dragging his focus away from anything resembling productivity, and he decided, instead, to take a walk, to clear his head.

He wasn't quite certain how he came to be crouching in front of the stone in the woods, only that he was, his mind lost in a reverie of stories told to him as a child, tales about gods and vampires and survival of the fittest.

It was anybody's best guess just how long he spent there, fingers resting on the cool surface of the stone. Seconds? Or minutes or hours? When he realized that he was, he gave his head a shake, stood, and dusted himself off. It had been a pleasant enough detour. Now maybe he'd be able to focus again.