Harrow's fingers still shook around the sword at his side as he followed Yaya into a strange mirror.

It was, for him, an extremely bold move: a venture into the unknown that had been fueled by a tension thrumming through his body, something that had been there since he first awoke in the infirmary. He couldn’t explain, exactly, what had pushed him forward, and he was certainly afraid. More than a little bit. Maybe he would say that it was better than standing alone in a room full of dead hunters. Maybe.

By the time he had second thoughts, it was too late. He stepped out into a strange room: dark, and a little bit dank, with an echo far away that made it abundantly clear to him that he was standing in a massive cave. There was a dampness in the air that shivered cold against his skin, but there was no sign of Hadiyya, which made him frown, dark brows pulling together in the middle of his forehead. Slowly, he turned in place.

And then he paused, his eyes locking on the strange throne that seemed to be the only thing in this echoing monstrosity.

Slowly, still frowning, Harrow crept forward – hand on his sword, though he was too focused for it to tremble, now. Instead it was steady, at the ready, though the echo of his own footsteps sent a slow shudder up his spine. The curves of the throne seemed strangely familiar, and he hesitated just a breath while he tried to place it.

Bones. The throne was made of bones. And no sooner had this thought crossed his mind than Harrow felt himself drawn in closer. He slid a hand over the curve of someone’s pelvis, fingers dipping into the joint, and shuddered again. But he couldn’t quite stop himself. Slowly, he took his seat.

It was not a vision designed for Harrow, but while he was in it, he found himself enraptured. Death and destruction spilled out around him, and now his heart started racing. Excitement thrummed through him, and he drew in several deep breaths, finding a smile starting to spread across his face –

Just a moment. A breath. And then it was gone.

He uncurled from the floor of the infirmary with a faintly puzzled expression on his face, levered himself up to look around through narrowed eyes, uncertain how he’d ended up on the floor, and his attention returning to the picture of a cage encircling Halloween.