is always

a price


1: Rhoda stares upwards at the tree, teeth grit.

2: She shuts her eyes, relaxing, giving in, crying a final tear.

3: Split into layers of skin, muscle, veins, bone, and a glowing, spindly white figure within, thin roots and vines of Tazim’s influence sneak between every layer, integrating with her bones and her veins, consuming her from within.