It comes suddenly, nipping on the heels of apparent disappointment. The ground shifts and remains in place. Sand bubbles between blades of grass. It's the quiet hiss of movement which tugs her focus from coldly staring at that ridiculous mask

...and noticing that--she goes to kick against the fingers wrapping themselves around her ankles, but to no avail. Her pulse skitters as she struggles against the hands on her ankles. No, whatever that is, it is not real. Is that bone? This is an illusion spun, like Pyat Pree's.

"Release me, Kebechet."