[ After the ragged edges of the dream pulled apart and left this stagnant place, Ranni has remained curious, unafraid. The lands around them are rotting, now, layered over with the scent of fruit going off, abandoned in the soil from the trees that were once there.

Sitting at the edge of a still pool of fetid water, she watches those around her with a thoughtful gaze. Some are writhing in pain as they transform, stumbling off to get their bearings. Ranni's own transformation had been blessedly brief, the only result a halo behind her head, a slice of blue-white moon, for all that the rest of her is decidedly un-angelic.

Thus, she is witness to one of the more drastic transformations. A humanoid turns into a fox-like creature before her very eyes, and Ranni watches this with a scholar's eye, one pair of porcelain hands steepled in thought, the other pair folded on her lap. Behind her mask, one lambent blue eye peers out from the eyeholes, unblinking. A laughing scream echoes from the creature's mouth. ]

Great pain thee must have endured, however;
I urge thee calm.
The rotten red moon above us watches ever ceaselessly,
with an eye to manipulate,
and a mouth to whisper foul urges.

[ Her bidding is polite, but edged. ]

Do not fall under its sway any more than thee must.