The Trance

An amber sphere of light followed her, casting a pale sepia glow across the long, still grass. The path was worn, but peppered with stones. She walked briskly, careful to maintain her step, breathing in the night. The evening was the edge of spring, shaking the slumber of winter. It was chilly, but not cold; damp, but not wet. Over her shoulder, she looked back to camp. She felt ill ease entering the trance around her friends, unless it was necessary. It was dangerous, but it allowed her to unlock her true potential, and that she would not be denied.