"NO—" Delah snarls ferociously, and though she wants to grab for her magic and shuck the disobedient owl from the sky, she has her people to worry about. Amalia might not know what is happening, might think she can foolishly help by what? flying above?, but Delah knows the truth.
The fae at the mouth of the pit suddenly clasp hands, a silent order given that they all immediately obey. With heads bowed their lips and bodies move in unison. A song not unlike the one the starwhale above sings bursts forth and Delah's magic accompanied by dozens of others begin to knit a net, the voices of the fae like tangible strings that run betwixt the lines of wind. It hovers above the treetops, their voices making it firm and taut even as the star, the whale, continues to fall...
The fae at the mouth of the pit suddenly clasp hands, a silent order given that they all immediately obey. With heads bowed their lips and bodies move in unison. A song not unlike the one the starwhale above sings bursts forth and Delah's magic accompanied by dozens of others begin to knit a net, the voices of the fae like tangible strings that run betwixt the lines of wind. It hovers above the treetops, their voices making it firm and taut even as the star, the whale, continues to fall...
