The dreams began exactly three months before, on the eve of Ostara. They were sultry, salty wisps that wrapped around Mary's subconscious while she slept, filling her mind with images of craggy cliffs topped with grasses that waved in the briny breeze and terminated in the breaking waves of a cold, grey sea. Sounds assaulted her, echoing between canyons of rock, sounding like honking or
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