Renegades Vigil wearing black, black magic

Sawyer, you hear the bizarre croak of a blue heron.

Sawyer had been cautious since meeting the dark stranger near the Weir. Her steps were careful and she was ever wary in case she found herself falling once more. Something about this place, the whole mysteriousness of Relic Lore, had her entranced. There was a static in the air here, the sort of feeling that she had come home at last. How long the feeling would remain, she was unsure, but she hoped it was here to stay.

She had picked her way northward, heading up from the Lagoon and following the winding creek that fed into it until she heard a whisper on the wind. Her tail rose and her ears came forward, searching across the marshlands for anything remotely wolf-like. There was nothing and no one there. Just the hum of insects and the intermittent croaking of wood frogs.

A frown settled along her masked face as she stomped through the ankle-deep water and soggy grass roots. The reeds tickled along her underbelly when she heard it again. A masculine voice murmuring in her ear, 'Are you watching closely?'

Sawyer inhaled sharply, the gasp forced immediate from her as if she had breathed in the visiting spirit. "What?" she breathed, eyes wide as they scanned her surroundings. Her ears drew back, unnerved now as she took a step towards the shore. She strained her senses, smelling nothing, seeing nothing, hearing nothing until...

"ROAAAAAKKKKKK!" Then another series of sounds, "AWK! AWK! AWK!"

Now, that was one strange bark.

She leapt from her place, nearly rooted in the submerged, paludal soil. The sooner she was out of the mud and onto land where she could truly move, the better. For good measure, she took refuge beside the tall, bent over cedar whose branches swept over the water. She ducked her head beneath its hefty trunk, watching and waiting for the sick-sounding canine to appear.

you musn't be afraid
to dream a little bigger, darling
⟡ ⟡ ⟡