A thick haze started to billow in from the above. Perched in a tree waiting, Trenidia greeted Willow with a voice as cold as the North. "Well well, look who's finally come back. Recently visit someone, dear?" The distortion of her voice should have been evidence enough of her own inner corruption. She blew a smoke ring down below with a slow hiss.
Limping back to her camp from her little dinner night with Westcott, the last thing she expected to see was.. this. Her. Fuck, fuck, fuck, no. No, you can’t be here, I’m not ready. Willow drops her backpack immediately, standing just inside the walls of her camp and staring, too distracted by her panic to hear that something was wrong. “T-Tren… what are you doing here..?”