While much of Vale City joyously celebrated the end of the Lothian line and the conquest of the march, a solemn procession made its way along a narrow path outside the walls of the ancient fortress.
Talauia led the way, surrounding herself with soft, glowing lights that resembled fireflies. Her wings thrummed with a low hum, but even she found it difficult to exude her normal energy as she guided the team of horses through the dark.
A portion of that difficulty came from the nature of the moment. It wasn't a time for smiles or laughter, and even she recognized that. But another portion came from the… thing in the wagon behind her. It reminded her of the Bloody Sandbox Tree that helped to guard the Briar, but that was a Witchwood Tree, nurtured by the blood of the Mother of Thorns herself. There wasn't anything unnatural or wrong about the witchcraft that had created that tree.
