She’d been away: wandering through wild rose fields and brush- through warrens where rabbits peaked up and nibbled on all sorts of things. The trees around her so tall and all the darkness comfortable; but that was only in part to her imagining the idea that Ether was there. Flowers and coconuts, all manner of life has taken root; but one more interesting note is the warmth of the water and all the nibbling fish in shoals as they spread across the sea.
Watching them from her rock, she sees patterns of black and chaos: rays and skates that break them apart and like a liquid they reforms soon after. Her eyes close, and Briella smells the saltwater and sand: the passing breeze that carries with it touches of worlds across the ocean. Serene as she though, she does turn, walking through a patch of darkness behind a split and fallen tree.
Void.
Soundless and ever stretching itself out, the Void laughs in a way that makes it sound like a death rattle: fleshy and porous- but smoky all the same she runs, she breaks into a full run and screams.
The darkness is endless, and in it she feels pain in her bones and body, she feels her muscles as if they were on fire: and she hears wet pops and squelching sounds when the flesh tears and reshapes. Like rough water it bubbles and darkens: her mutable body little more than clay in the hands of this maddening entity.
When she breaks free? Briella is spat upon the sand with cramps and pain, with all her body crumbled to the ground. She kicks and shakes, tries to re-align and center herself, and inevitably she gets up. Tired and exhausted, sore in ways she cannot comprehend. When she walks there is a grace in her step that seems like a dancer’s own movements: and her gait is entirely smooth, so much so that it seems as if she is years into practice of it.
Taller, stronger, and larger: she can see the reflection darkened and a faux-chocolate color on her body, the blonde mane and tail wavy and long: glamorous and thick. She still has pale blue eyes; but more so notable is the ice in her man and tail, the frost peppering her body. Exhaling there is a billowing cloud around her nose, and Briella hears her name called.
She stumbles, walks, and goes to meet them: but she stops, mulling over the thoughts of what would happen: at how they would respond to this ever strange magic. With some reservation she does walk to them: blinking and unsure of herself, lacking all the confidence she might’ve had once.
“I don’t know what’s happening.” she states, perplexed.