She'd told the hat once already?

The desire to pry was hard to contain. But it wasn't Vyn's to know, not yet. Maybe not ever. She could probably find the little fiend faster than Dove could and force it to talk. And not like the temptation wasn't there. But that would defeat the purpose of Dove building her own confidence. She shouldn't be stolen from, especially by Vyn.

Wanted to tell her that she wasn't mad for things only she could see and hear. That it was simply a haunting. Everyone had a head full of ghosts, and not all of them were pleasant. But...no. Ghost doctor would have to learn on her own. Perhaps she was simply meant to be her own patient first.

„Sleep well, Dove.“

Alone – she pulled out the card to finally get a better look.
 
When they parted ways- Dove resumed her rituals, as if nothing happened. As if she didn't relive the night of her 'death', over, and over again. Her fingers ran water over raw skin, once covered by white, soft down. Baggy eyes grew heavy- her hands folded onto her heart in both prayer and protection. A small sock was placed onto the ground, clean and smelling suspiciously of vanilla for a certain hat. She crawled into bed, her wings tight, curled, closing her eyes, and praying that her next adventure into darkness would be a peaceful and reflective one.

---

The card was both mysterious, but telling. The center of it was dark, and shadowy, consuming all light that went into it, seemingly creeping to the edge of the card. It almost seemed to stretch slowly, so subtly, until a blink or two would realign it. Vyn's clues would come from the edges of the card, where moments- small, were painted, in frail watercolor. The setting of a temple, cast in spring light and pink petals. A wooden floor, stained red with blood, painted on the ground like a blossoming tree. The very tip of a sword- a stained ring. And barely- just barely, one could see the shadows of figures in the background.

All being swallowed by darkness.
 
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