The Man of Talis
Madeline and Anna step out of the rip in reality onto solid ground. It is dark, perhaps night. The scent of raw earth and vegetation is strong in your nostrils, and the thick, honeyed scent of some night-blooming flowers. The air is warm, not hot, and humid. You seem to be in a forest; ahead you can make out what must be a large clearing. Shafts of bright yellow moonlight pierce the canopy here and there.
Anna immediately falls to her knees, as if the effort of standing is more than she can bear.
OOC: Anna is weak as a newborn kitten, wringing with sweat, and magically exhausted. She currently has no PPs
A whirling, chaotic rush of sensations. Darkness, crushing, suffocating. A sense of movement, as if hurtling through space at an impossible speed. Light and colors, chaotic, shattered; shapes too fast and blurry to discern. Reality rippling like water.
You regain your senses, awakening from a sleep - if sleep it was - you never meant to take. You are in a strange place, a place unknown to you.