The territory funneled them into a tunnel of wisteria trees, shortly. Nothing but lavender all around – draping, clustered sprays and fallen blossoms creating a thick layer on the path. A soft mist created a haze in the tunnel, obscuring the distance.
It was quiet. Fairy-like. Blossoms falling like snow.
A feeling of being watched crept up Shiloh’s spine. She paused to look back the way they had come, but it was obscured now as well.
She had started turning back when a shift in the mist drew her gaze back, quick like the snap of a twig. The fleeting impression of a ghostly silhouette in the haze imprinted itself on her mind, but smeared into nothing as she stared directly at the pall.
Nothing but the falling blossoms stirred, gathering at her feet.