At the densest section of the forest, there is a brief clearing where a steady flow of water streams down the slippery stone staircase. The water here is cool and refreshing. Staircase Falls has been rumoured to be the place where reality is met by magic; where peaceful spirits dwell. They are rumoured to have healing powers that are used to help the desperately hurt, though no one has experienced this, except for, perhaps, Kaive.
The young princess fell silent for a moment, as if genuinely contemplating Danger’s words. Of course, she also could be gaping at him with outrage—not like the sooty zombie was able to read her facial expressions. Uncomfortable in the tense quiet, Danger turned his muzzle back toward the flow of water breezing a few feet from his muzzle and tried to concentrate on the minute beads of dew that misted the tips of his midnight fur. Along with finely honed hearing and a spookily acute sense of smell, the dark dog possessed an uncanny ability to feel things, little miniature cues from the environment that no one else had to take into account. He’d discovered at an early age just how sensitive his flesh was beneath its tattered coat . . . how even the smallest breaths of wind against his flanks or the tickle of grass could tell him so much about the world surrounding him. He swore he could feel the heat of Nzingha’s gaze when she brought it back to his level. His hackles prickled, the water droplets caught in their plumage shimmering slightly. Oh shit. Here it comes.
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