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Rotten, festering fruit disappeared; the great, twisted boughs of ancient trees shrunk; queer, glowing fungus receded; and the haunting music of the dance drifted off on a gentle wind. Rajani was oblivious to it all. Her head felt heavy and her ears, stuffed with wool. Groaning quietly, she held a hand to her temple, attempting to regain some semblance of equilibrium. She glanced halfheartedly around her, trying to discern where she was - this was far worse than the most vicious hangover she had ever experienced.

Though the gypsy would have been quite happy to keep licking her wounds, one person glimpsed through the suffocating crowd caught her attention. Soibhan. Her presence alone would not have been enough to instill any pressing need to move in Rajani, but her countenance certainly was. Even through the pounding in her temples and the sluggishness of her thoughts, she knew that something was wrong there.

Cursing under her breath, she stumbled across the yard, bouncing off of people rather than pushing through them. She reached out a hand and grasped Soibhan's shoulder, marshaling her strength to shake the other woman back to her senses - not that Rajani was in any position to lecture anyone about senses just then. The end result was closer to falling into her than shaking her, but it had the desired effect regardless.

The gypsy simply shook her head - and immediately regretted it when the stars blurred with the earth. How long until this mess in her head cleared up again? She had no mind to properly listen to the Gaels woman's raving remembrances. Rajani had her own leave of senses to contend with. It seemed that there was no time for words, regardless.

The collective shock of the dazed crowd drew her attention to a spectacle of eldrich monsters who wore the faces of men. Gwyn, this new one called himself, of the House of Winter. Gwyn, the Wolf Prince of old. Their ancient enemy. He was cold, methodical insanity. Courtesy coupled with death. And not even a hole as large as a fist through his chest was anything more than a mild inconvenience for him.

It was enough to freeze her blood.

She snorted at that. "For all the good they did us."

Bloody hell. The b*****d had been amongst them this whole time. He had messed with their heads. He had murdered some of their soldiers. And that arrogant, jumped-up spirit by the Queen's side had known he was there the whole time. That much, at least, she could glean from their quiet conversation. The fog in her mind was gone. The monster was gone. The lives of a handful of soldiers were gone. And Rajani was furious.

She watched as the Queen performed her little ceremony - it was an impressive sight, one meant to instill confidence and fervor for battle - but the gypsy was far from comforted. Now more than ever, she was convinced that the Queen's new pet was not to be trusted. Fancy tricks and pretty magics aside, he had already proven that he could not be relied upon to have their best interests at heart.

"Whatever that red-haired beast is up to, we had best keep a watch on him."

That tree was almost as suspicious as its maker. Rajani was not comfortable with the notion that a spirit - any spirit - was capable of making something even remotely resembling the Ward Tree. If she wanted to be rational about it, then perhaps she might admit that spirits were said to be of nature, and the Wood was said to have created the Tree; so perhaps it followed that the magic of nature and the magic of spirits would be similar. However, the gypsy was not feeling particularly rational just then.

Anything and everything that the Queen's pet did would be treated with the utmost suspicion. In the off chance that he turned out to have honorable intentions, she could acknowledge it later - acknowledge, but not apologize. She would never apologize for taking precautions.

"I suspect that the Queen or one of her people will have some notion of how to put together an army out of this lot," she said, eying the crowd dubiously. They were less than promising recruits. Still, a few here or there seemed to be holding up better than most. "But there's no need to let that stop us."

She would much rather have a group that was not as easily influenced by the spirit than an entire army that could possibly be dancing to his tune. Yes. Best take their pick while they could. Even if they were all incorporated into official rank and file of the Queen's Wardens - and thus possibly the bloody spirit's - at least a few of them scattered here and there would have their eyes and ears open. A few loyal to Sunderland and willing to oppose the spirit. Best not mention that in this great crowd, though. There were too many ears.

Rajani was not yet ready to write the Queen off. Clearly, she was not pleased by the spirit's negligence, but it was difficult to judge just how deep that displeasure ran. Royalty did not throw hissy fits in public, after all. It was also clear that the Queen was keeping him close at hand, using him as a dearly trusted adviser. This did not please the gypsy.

Perhaps the Queen had felt the need to take a leap of faith; perhaps she felt that he was the answer to her prayers; or perhaps he really was toying with her mind. Rajani could understand the first, though she did not personally agree with it, but the other two were unacceptable. Of course, she was about as far from royalty and all the hard decisions and politics as one could get, so maybe she was not really in a position to judge. That was fine. The Queen would do things her way, and Rajani would just do them another.

"Yes," she agreed. "But not until at least tomorrow, I think. All of us could use the time to think before we start planning again."

"Imagine the cleanup," she replied. It was a right mess, that much was true. It was not even one of their own making, but it was one they were stuck with until they figured out how to fix it. Rajani refused to believe that it could not be fixed.

A soft bed sounded sinfully divine. As soon as Soibhan had mentioned it, all the weariness and aches she had accumulated over the long, long day started screaming at her. The mere thought of walking anywhere was exhausting. She could just curl up right there and pass out until the morning. Oh, but her stomach was aching for want of proper nourishment, too. And a bath. A nice, hot, steaming bath. None of those things were here.

Rajani told herself to buck up. "We'd best move now, then, before this lot gets there and takes all there is to have," she said and somehow managed to convince her feet to move.

"I'll even toss in the extra coin and have the food sent up to the room. Hot baths for the both of us." It would be worth it. The gypsy was not up for bothering herself with all the gossip and fuss that was bound to be rampant in the common room. Not even for the sake of gathering information. They could do that after they slept.

"Who could have hoped to be prepared for that?" she asked. "No one has seen the like for hundreds of years. Who could have expected it?" The obvious answer was Llyr. He knew, curse his secretive tongue, and he had said nothing. The soldiers might have been spared if not for him. Rajani could only pray that the Queen had sense enough to demand answers from Llyr. Preferably the kind that would better prepare them all for what the monster and his wolves were capable of.

...more spirits? Her lip curled at the thought. "I pray not." The last thing she wanted were more of those untrustworthy creatures wandering about. Who knew what trouble they would get up to? Better they all remain wherever it is they've been hiding all these years. Better they leave Sunderland to the humans.

The gypsy hummed in agreement. First one, then two. She would not be surprised if more appeared after that. Still, she could hope, even if only in vain. She had to hold onto something, even if it was just pipe dreams and wishes.

As Hawthorn landed on her shoulder with a familiar, soft thud, she sent out an inquiry to her absent Guardian. Oberon, too, was tired from the day's excitement, though not as bone-weary as Rajani. Still, rather than close himself in a stable full of other Guardians, he wanted to spend the night under the stars. He was less liable to be disturbed that way, and he was not entirely comfortable after Gwyn's appearance.

Though the stag knew that the spirit was unlikely to return so soon, he would feel better if he could keep watch in the Wood. All the better to defend from wolves, though they were probably all beyond Sunderland by now.

Alright. Be safe. she told him, then led the way to the inn, Hawthorn crooning all the words he could remember in her ear. Tomorrow would dawn on a whole new world.