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Mist has become a refuge to the fragile fae, softly enveloping her slight bodice and allowing her to disappear into an indistinct world of shifting grays and white. More importantly, when she lets her mind wander and simply gazes into the constantly changing fog, she can forget her past. It is comforting, to disappear into a swirling ether and cease to remember anything, even her own identity. Reality is cruel, clawing and raging whenever she chooses to acknowledge it, and so she avoids such a harsh thing. Ignoring life will not make it go away, but it does provide temporary comfort, and so she embraces the delusion.
A sudden, unexpected sound pulls her from this disconnected state of contentment. The call was soft, a request rather than a demand, but Adura is not pleased with the way it has shattered her trance. She had almost managed to erase herself, to dissolve into the uncaring vapor that surrounded this new land that perhaps she would be allowed to call home. Vague annoyance shifts to resignation, and the snow-hued unicorn reluctantly follows the song back to the one who had created it.
A dark figure become visible, and as always, her heart leaps at the thought she may find a black-winged angel awaiting her. Of course, it takes only a second for her hopes to crash, for the shape is recognizable as distinctly horselike. She steps closer, and an amulet that produces a soft glow catches her attention, drawing her in with faint rainbow colors. It is beautiful, and her mind again detaches itself from reality to float in a suspended state of fascination. It is so easy for the broken lady to fade, yet so easy to call her back again. For now, though, blue and gold eyes gaze upon the pendant, unfocused stare giving away the fact that her consciousness is shifting into something close to nonexistence.
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