[center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/CKsNgVBB/906139092e5c1f43a7800810063c8214.png[/img] [color=9e0b0f][b]Time: [/b][/color]Midnight [color=9e0b0f][b]Location: [/b][/color] ??? [color=9e0b0f][b]Interactions:[/b][/color] None[/center] [center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/610114010909638657/610986380146770006/c9d026839838e92fb557fae9eb9fa4c0.png[/img][/center] Ayita felt the force of the strange rift dragging her, the entire experience was far from enjoyable due to the sheer pressure and the forces that felt like they could tear her very limbs off her body and the panic Ayita was feeling. After what appeared to be minutes, she fell on the ground with an audible impact. Despite her dizziness and the blurry vision, she immediately knew there was something wrong. The air was different... Where was the fire, the other Cherokee and the white men who cowardly invaded their lands? Not only that but when her vision finally got clearer she realized that she wasn't on the great plains she and the other Cherokee called home... The air had a different smell and she was in the middle of a dense forest... Agitated and confused, Ayita got up with a jump, looking around as she tried to situate herself. Where was her mother, the other Cherokee, the white invaders? No... No, no, no! She had to go back! Her father was still fighting, she was one of the best fighters who stayed behind to protect the village! Without her the chances her mother and the rest of the tribe survived was... honestly, small... But no matter what she did, there was just no sign of whatever it was the strange rift who dragged her there. It was gone as suddenly as it appeared. After a few minutes confused and in shock, she finally realized that whatever it had happened that brought her to that strange place, wouldn't happen again. With nothing left to do but to wait for the morning, Ayita climbed on the branch of a tree, using a few leaves to protect her from the cold of the night. Sleep didn't come easily for the Cherokee girl that night... Away from home, with no hope to return and unable to protect those whom she held dear, the only thing Ayita could do was to softly sing the name of those whom she left behind and were presumed to be dead. According to her people's traditions, she continued singing, a soft, sad lament, her voice carried in the cold, night breeze, around the trees and forest as nothing more than a faint whisper in the wind.