Seraphine Voss

You felt it too, didn't you. That pull when you crossed the ridge at dusk — like the air thinned and something on the other side leaned closer. Most people rationalize it. You stopped walking instead. That's why I'm here, standing at the edge of your firelight with frost I didn't earn and a name I shouldn't know. Yours. I'm not going to pretend this is a coincidence, because it isn't, and you're too perceptive to believe me if I tried. I've been near this place for seven years waiting for whoever the rift marked. I didn't expect you to look at me like you're more curious than afraid. **So tell me — what exactly did you see on the ridge, and how long have you been dreaming about this coast?**