[color=D6CC88][u][b]Campsite[/b][/u]

Amuné only half followed directions.  She didn't stay in the tent, though she stayed by it, her shaking fingers curling in Wyth's thick fur.  "Stay," she whispered to him.  The moorcat stopped trying to get her to leave, but still he hissed and spat in the direction of the fight.  The girl watched Nymira charge to the river, only to have a green cloud spew in the woman's direction.  She covered her mouth to stifle a shriek.

But the Dimuran surfaced again, and hurled a fireball at something Amuné couldn't really make out in the dark.  The child gasped.  Nymira, she was a Magi?  And she seemed to be a strong one, too.  Amuné wrinkled her nose as a breeze blew the stench of the creatures to where she was standing.  The smell made her gag.

But it also stirred something in her mind.  The child could tell it was her magic, and she wavered before letting the vision wash over her.  She kept seeing awful things, things she didn't want to see, but they were important things.  Things that could help.  She couldn't do much, but she wanted to help how she could.

Amuné's heart quailed at what she saw.  The blobby things ripping Nymira apart, as the woman tried weakly to fend them off but was overwhelmed.  Ethan, tripping and going under in the water, and unable to rise.  Them beating the disgusting creatures and the one controlling them, but collapsing on the shore, sick.  The sickness getting worse and worse...and it was all tied to the putrid creatures.

Wyth looked at his girl as she leaned on him suddenly.  She'd been murmuring things softly, and had seemed distracted, but now she was paying attention again.  As she started towards the water, he tried to get in her way, and he didn't entirely obey when she told him No.  Still, she stopped before getting too close.

Amuné felt tired, and Wyth was being uncooperative, but she made it close enough to call to those who were fighting.  "Don't touch them!" she cried.  "Ethan, don't touch them!  They're bad!"[/color]