Chas looked back toward the tent flap and the direction of the unknown approaching. He wasn't wrong and she also did not know what, exactly, was coming. It was the wrong direction for it to be latecomers from Aura. Perhaps it was just other travelers passing through? She knew so little of the area...
There wasn't much she could do, but she could save him from unnecessarily disturbing his rest.
"Yes," she replied at length, looking back to him, "you deserve to rest like everyone else. I will look."
Not as though she needed rest, herself. At least, not lately. She'd done very little to expend energy beyond her visits outside the amulet and reading the book. Her figure faded as she turned away to rise from the cot, dispersing from sight to give way to the sound of the storm.
Outside, the ghost shifted through the small caravan camp. Only the main campfire remained lit, though it hissed and sizzled a slow death within the storm. There one minute, gone the next, Chasmine moved to the edge of the tents where she lingered in the broad expanse between the camp and the encroachers. In the driving rain, her figure shivered in and out of sight, a glimmer between lightning bolts that revealed the approaching group of enemies.
Chasmine's lips parted in contained surprise.
"Oh dear."
She disappeared.
Moment's later she stood before them, catching their numbers in their own surprise and confusion. Just a ghost of a young girl gazing upon them from a dozen or so yards away. She didn't move, didn't speak, but remained staring balefully through the gale.
Then her mouth yawned open and Chasmine unleashed a banshee scream with such explosive energy it cut through the storm, momentarily stopping the winds and the rains in her immediate vicinity and bursting the eardrums of the interlopers closest to her. There was absolutely no chance anyone in the camp could sleep through it.
There wasn't much she could do, but she could save him from unnecessarily disturbing his rest.
"Yes," she replied at length, looking back to him, "you deserve to rest like everyone else. I will look."
Not as though she needed rest, herself. At least, not lately. She'd done very little to expend energy beyond her visits outside the amulet and reading the book. Her figure faded as she turned away to rise from the cot, dispersing from sight to give way to the sound of the storm.
Outside, the ghost shifted through the small caravan camp. Only the main campfire remained lit, though it hissed and sizzled a slow death within the storm. There one minute, gone the next, Chasmine moved to the edge of the tents where she lingered in the broad expanse between the camp and the encroachers. In the driving rain, her figure shivered in and out of sight, a glimmer between lightning bolts that revealed the approaching group of enemies.
Chasmine's lips parted in contained surprise.
"Oh dear."
She disappeared.
Moment's later she stood before them, catching their numbers in their own surprise and confusion. Just a ghost of a young girl gazing upon them from a dozen or so yards away. She didn't move, didn't speak, but remained staring balefully through the gale.
Then her mouth yawned open and Chasmine unleashed a banshee scream with such explosive energy it cut through the storm, momentarily stopping the winds and the rains in her immediate vicinity and bursting the eardrums of the interlopers closest to her. There was absolutely no chance anyone in the camp could sleep through it.
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