It would be nice to just relax into it. Mynx is gone, with nothing to mark her passage but a cryptic message and two darting-deerlike shapes in pursuit. She could simply lie down amidst the flowers, breath deep the spores, and let the vines have their way with her.

And that's exactly the reason she can't. That thought pushes her, staggering, to her feet. She can't stop here. Maybe she'd be fine. Maybe she'd just have a relaxing day to herself with her thoughts. But she's had far too many of those as is, and she has things to do. There are people she cares for, and miracle of miracles, she's one of them.

Aphrodite is a villain, yes. He destroys for love. But thus are all gods, and she loves herself too much to lie down now.

Someone--she doesn't see who--catches her when she staggers out of the fog. She's slow, too slow to chase, but she can at least scrape the moss out of her throat enough to speak and try to make some order out of the chaos of fleeing magi and scattered phalanxes.