The Weaver felt reality shift around her, her view of the temple blurring until it split apart. Like watching an egg c***k from the inside. When the two halves of the old reality fell away, she was standing in a lush green field under a blue sky,
Her white gown was still pristine, her golden hair still braided with not one single strand out of place. “Well, now,” she said, placing hands on her hips. “I"m pleased to see you didn"t try to run this time.”
She turned.
Benny was kneeling in the tall grass, his snake-like features set in an expression of resignation. He looked up at her with yellow eyes that glowed, each with a vertical slit as its pupil. “What good would it do?” His voice rasped as he spoke. “You hunt me down every time.”
The Weaver smiled down at him. “We"re friends, Benny
