[color=#1A1A3B][b][u][h1][sub][sub][sub]Farren[/sub][/sub][/sub][/h1][/u][/b][/color]		      caught himself, his second foot coming down and shifting sideways to brace himself for another strike. However, it proved unnecessary for almost as soon as Ophelia’s own downwards slash concluded, the wraith seemed to fade and vanish. Though he didn’t miss the strange trail of ghostly material that had linked it to Torquil, he still had no real idea what the hell that could have been. That was at least through the haze of adrenaline that had spiked through his body…and his cluelessness only lasted until Ophelia spoke. It was that anything in particular she said stirred his memory or brought an idea to his mind, but rather that her talking signaled to some part of him that the danger had likely waned–if not entirely vanished.

His mind began to work again as his focus shifted. He shifted stance, standing up fully rather than remaining braced for another strike, and he turned to look over at Torquil. He didn’t inquire after his health or wellbeing, as Ophelia had, but there was a look of concern that creased his brows. [color=#1A1A3B][b]“Torquil…what did you feel as we entered the Dream…before the wraith’s blade,”[/b][/color] he asked, a sick suspicion cradled in his mind–not for Torquil specifically–but instead for their shared nature.