[open] the seasons may be a battle of their own

Wessex

She leaves mischevous pawprints in the cold mud. Yes, that’s right. The fox (so cleverly disguised, hiding her extra tails and changing her color in order to be a plain, red fox) darts and ducks and drifts through the park. She’s skittish and on high alert, ears swiveling this way and that and long, whiskered nose attempting to decipher whether or not it’s safe to proceed.

Naughty, naughty fox.

The book has told her that Strombreak may soon be off-limits to the Ascended, so it seems she’s got to explore for her levelling Lady as much as possible before then. However, when the disguised demigod comes across the open-air temple in the gardens, something devious slithers across her mind. Picking a spot that’s still relatively green and hasn’t yet shed its beauty for Deepfrost, the fox starts to dig, enthusiastically throwing up clods of dirt and trying to uproot any of the nearby flowers and plants that make the area so pleasant.

What is life? A madness
What is life? An illusion, a shadow, a story