Why now, do you fret?
Perhaps you think he’s already dead?
Do you so fear their perilous domain?
Or do you fear more that there is nothing to gain?
Perhaps you don’t mind
Leaving him behind?
Or did he leave you, go off on his own?
Did he leave the little shadow all sad and alone?
Midnight really wanted to be alone right now. She did not know where Yves was, and the question of his survival lingered heavily on her mind. She had witnessed the aftermath when other familiars faced the loss of their wizards, but the prospect of Yves’s death added a disquieting layer of uncertainty. Midnight did not know how her wizard’s death would feel. The transformation wrought by the weaver venom had reshaped her in profound ways, and even her bond with Yves seemed to bear the marks of this metamorphosis.
Go and ask nicely, and you might pick out a new one.
And if you don’t like him, we take him off your hands —
Paws.
Same, same.
Same, same, but differ-rent.
Bones much more promi-nent.
Midnight ventured into the left tunnel, the sprites allowing her passage without interference. However, when she attempted to shift once more, they delivered a substantial blow. The impact was profound; for an initial moment, Midnight was engulfed by a void of sight, touch, and perception. Gradually, her surroundings re-emerged, yet the disorientation lingered for several moments.
Oh no, look at her stupid face!
I am so looking at her stupid face!
I did it again!
Oh, you did do it again!
But I did not rip her.
No, you didn’t.
Not yet.
Did you want to, though?
You bet.
Midnight compelled herself to dismiss the sprites’ antics, recognizing the likelihood that their aim was to divert her attention from potential threats within the tunnel. With the presence of witches looming as a tangible concern, Midnight remained vigilant. Progressing in her natural form, she used the surrounding darkness to amplify her senses and to extend them, searching for any subtle indications of imminent danger.
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