it's heavily recommended you open new tabs and listen to the music that's suggested in links. if it's still going when you reach another link, sit and finish listening to it. it shows the mood rather well, sometimes better than the writing...
[=10]
...
Ears pinned back, blue eyes and shadows were the first views Azalea had of the Forest.
She stepped over the boundaries with a floating lightness, creases and lines across her aging face, still beautiful in a demonic and haunting way. There was a smile upon her face—something wasn’t right about it; it was too white and her teeth were too sharp—and a burning rapture in the depths of her dark eyes. Though her eyes had once been blue, her spirit had become so black-spirited that it had encased her iris color as well, gradually going from a blue to a grey to a pitch. Her pupils were slits and her long eyelashes were like spider’s limbs, crawling and twitching and swaying in the breeze.
Aspen bristled and the birds fled.
Nevermore, though he was noticeable, somehow remained out of focus, distant and faded and old and monstrous, kneeling near the birches, some remorse and pity and fury seething deep within his eye sockets, but he remained silent as the wind and looked away as his mate-no-more stopped, eyeing her son and daughter with those spider-like eyes and animalistic grin. Vipin’s fur pricked and he seemed frightened, for Aspen wove closer to him and put her great head beneath his own, shutting her eyes tightly as the sun passed overhead, glaring down upon them with anger.
