Tears trickled down Wynn's face, mixing with blood from her not-fully-healed wound on the forest floor.
"Atlantides, please grant us asylum." She called out to the forest.
A breeze blew through the trees, followed by faint musical laughter. Acceptance.
Wynn didn't know what to do, so she leaned against a tree and watched Lerac. If the pear didn't work, then there was nothing she could do.
Curse Death. Curse him.