Felicity had devoured the whole cake. She was wiping the chocolate off her face when she felt eyes watching her. Her magic sense blared suddenly, the feeling of raw, impending doom slamming into her. Her magic sense was highly panicked, warning her of something foul. Goosebumps formed up her spine. Her heart pounded as sweat formed. She finished wiping her face with the cloth, shaking, and whirled around. Flame like hair flying, the pale girl saw a man watching her, a mask covering his face as he draped in dark robes. He gave her a nod, a nod which made her internally scream. Anxiety flooded through her, making her feel sick to her stomach. The cake was about ready to come right back up again. She pulled her short arm to her mouth, swallowing the bile that rose and clearing her throat. As memories of a scarring past rose up without explanation, she took heavy steps forward.

The closer she got, the worse the fear drive swelled. She opened her eyes in slits, fear manifesting in anger. Her entire body was shivering as if it was freezing, yet was coated in sweat from the feeling of burning. She cleared her throat, fighting back anxiety induced tears. She could sense that he was riddled with dark, twisted magic. What kind, she had no clue. Even then, the fear aura was bathing her in memories of blood and ice. Her post traumatic stress disorder, undiagnosed at the moment, was amplified in symptoms.

Her eyes were wide and shaking in the dedicated rage the fear was masking itself behind. Her voice cracked with boldness, her tone demanding and intent, “Who are you?! What are you doing?!” Her voice boomed. She threw her arms as she took a forceful step forward, “What do you want?! And what on earth is your magic aura doing to me!?”

Her onslaught of demands were ended in sharp barks. Only hints of desperation seeped through her voice. As memories of slits of frost replayed in front of her, she vibrated as if within the throngs of winter. She suddenly screamed, “Make it stop!”