Azrael
Ivy and I are within reach of the Wild Pack. We flew here but landed in the forest half a mile from the pack. Ivy didn’t want to scare the pack if they saw two Angels flying onto their territory.
But as we’re walking, Ivy pauses, her breath catching in her throat as she surveys the dense forest surrounding us.
“Ivy?” I call her name, but she doesn’t answer. Her eyes have clouded over and are now entirely white. “Ivy, what’s happening?”
Ivy grabs my hand, pulling me into the vision she’s experiencing.
The tangled web of trees and vines stretches out in every direction, a labyrinth of nature’s design that seems to defy the very laws of physics. It is here, amongst the towering oaks and whispering ferns, that we find ourselves. The beauty of the forest means nothing as flashes of
