In the depths of the great forest, a figure separated itself from the shadows, form revealed to be that of the Crone, as moonlight dappled across her silhouette. She approached a tree, seemingly like any other... although old beyond the standard measures of time. "I need you," she said, reaching out to press her hand against the ancient tree's bark. A greenish glow lit up the night for a moment, and then the bark parted, revealing a slumbering figure within the heart of the tree.
"It's time, Fauna." Her childe had been injured centuries past, the attack of a savage werewolf nearly severing her immortal thread. But Narcise had found her in time to save her, though by that point her Antediluvian had been deep in torpor. There was a hush in the forest as the Crone watched the woman before her. She was beautiful beyond the reckoning of mere mortals, a scar the only blemish upon face slumbering face.
How had she never noticed how lovely the vampire was? Ah, but it was immaterial. Her thoughts wandered toward the event that had nearly slain her childe. Even with the scent of the forest and old magic in the air, there was a chance that Fauna would not awaken. If that was the case... she would need to promote a new Antediluvian to work beside her, for there was much yet to do.
But Narcise waited with patience born of the many long centuries of her life. What was a few mere minutes or even days in the face of that? She stood motionless, watching Fauna as she slept. Around her, the forest teemed with life, grass straining toward the sky, even as flowers bloomed in the moonlight. It was the cycle of the world, ever growing, ever dying. She listened to the sound of the wind as it flowed through the trees, still watching. Still waiting.
Uta
