Considering the number of mirrors that Mmur had wandered into recently, it seemed odd that he hadn't known these trance shards even existed before yesterday. He'd been minding his own business in a tree outside the undead dorms when he'd unintentionally overheard a couple of rotting scarelings discussing a strange fragment of glass they'd found—a fragment that had transported them through space and time when they'd looked at it for too long. Six months ago he might have dismissed the conversation as some braggart's drug-addled rant, but he couldn't deny that such things were possible now. If the intact mirrors could hold such convincing other worlds, surely the broken pieces of them could too.
A short search in the students' library had proven the scarelings' words correct and had even suggested a place in Halloween to start looking for the shattered mirrors. Now the only question was, did he want to do so alone? The answer was, not really.
His quest for companionship was what had led Mmur to stroll the length of the Sanctuary that morning, aiming his most pleadingly hopeful expression at everyone who passed.
