It was real.
The glowing woman was real and when her forehead touched mine, I could see it.
Flowers blossoming, animals frolicking, the elder tree growing from seed—and somehow, I knew everything would be okay. The cub was healing before my eyes, an intricate design visible through it’s tufts of fur, the skin seeming to reconnect as if its body was regenerating.
And a tune.
The shimmering woman’s voice was a haunting sound.
Beautiful.
She hit incredibly high notes, singing in a language I didn’t recognize.
Entranced, I watched until the singing had stopped, leaving nothing but the sound of my humming—when had I started humming along? The thing was smiling at me, beautiful, and kind. I was certain it was kind. Merciful. Then the woman was gone, nothing but a fluttering butterfly in h
