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Instant regret flooded every sensory output the mare had, flushing away all prior feeling of confidence. Whatever she had done, whether by her knowledge or without, seemed terribly, terribly wrong. Leaves shriveled and crisped. Droplets of moisture beaded on their skin before tumbling down like rain water. Every vine of the trunk coiled, toppling within itself, also blackening like some sick, infected root jutting out from whatever decay it clung too. Before the mare's very eyes a tree rotted, falling more and more within itself. Some branches snapped due to their fragility from the lack of water, tumbling down on her. Smaller twigs caught in her mane, whilst the shriveled leaves swayed down like tossed petals of celebration. Though, the chieftain couldn't help but feel this wasn't something to celebrate. What had happened? She'd never heard tale of such events occuring between Druid and tree. Had she done something horribly wrong? How would Aeon forgive her?
