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Continued from @owliiish's post!

Autumn evenings brought an iciness over the Boiling Isle, something only a comforter could hope to fight against in the wee hours. Thus with each day growing shorter and shorter, the perfect excuse was provided to any looking for cause to nod off. And the ever-encroaching oppression of disembodied observation was as good as any other reason to turn in early. Yet there was no solace to be found in Nod, none for the Owl Lady. In the between where the quiet lay did things seldom stay tranquil these days. When her consciousness fades and gave way something arose from the subconscious bay. Like a web spun from high, gossamer threads glimmered as they stretched out from corner to corner in the nest. Only there was no widow to make the threads a home. Instead, there was only a coldness not too unlike the dead of night, frost drifting off the threads to coalesce over her head. That is all to say--it was not a pleasant night. It did not start pleasant and would likely not end pleasant either, not for as long as an unseen hand wrung Eda's psyche. Something sought to drain dry whatever kept her on edge. Whatever it was keeping her aprized of the observation, the scrutiny peering through rock and bone and stone. Until all that remained was a withered husk content to let whatever be do as it pleased. Then the hand loosened and pulled back to give her a breath, to let her find herself amid the swirling tempest. Only after did the fog recede, create a pocket of clarity to think and to feel. And once the calm came, so too did a single great eye. It opened without fanfare, splitting the abyss to unveil an island of glaring milk with a thousand-thousand glittering orbs all blink-staring to form the whole of a pupil through crude pointalism. Splintered veins carved their way through the margins of the melted chocolate spilling out into the black, each a finger-thick fissure throbbing in arrhymic patterns. And welled within its depthless expanse was an intensity that shook the very ether.

Down the optic's dot roamed until settling upon Eda, constricting until it was a pinprick similar in size to her own pupils. Only then did a sound resonate across the endless black.

}--.͠l̢͝ɘ҉̡̕ɘ̢͢ꟻ̛ ̷.ɘ̷̧ʜ̕͞t̵͞ɒ́͞ɘ̧̀ɿ͠B̧́͠ .̡ʞ͢ń̶̕i̧ʜT͢--{

A foghorn blaring out across an empty prairie, its voice thrummed and the air of Nod was cowed.