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Mistral drums her fingers aimlessly on the dressing table. "How long has it been since I came here, anyway?" ~ Fiddles with the assortment of decorative ornaments, sighing. Aloud ~ "This inactivity is really quite unbearable." ~ Throwing a sea anemone onto the ground, she picks up a pebble and aims at it. The pebble lands smack into the centre of the anemone.
She presses her hands on the stone bench, slowly raising her body. Her shoulder injury seems to have healed almost completely, as does her ankle sprain. Perhaps it is the healing essence of the food these sea-elves have been offering me…
Carefully, she treads her way out of the shimmering room. As the piercing ache shoots from the scythe-shaped wound to her heart, she gasps and grips the nearest column for support. What's all this about? If only Killing Spree were here... she's such a strange one, she's bound to know something about it!
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