get out of my head

Aryn had committed to it, to running far from Habari and the infectious wolves who made their home there. The paranoia had driven her away early in the season, and though she'd been originally caught in her escape by Kali she'd managed to escape the heir's anger and disappear into the forest's mists.

A throbbing had begun on the top of her skull not long after her encounter with the crystal-ridden yearling, though unlike the other infected wolves she'd met crystals did not near-instantly seem to sprout. The pain continued, occasionally waning as instead an unbelievable itch ran beneath her skin. She lifted a paw to her skull and felt two faint bumps there. This was it - that bitch Kali had infected her, and now Aryn was going to die a crystalline death.

She ran desperately into the briar patch, the paranoia driving her deeper and deeper and her eyes and nose leaking a sparse trail of blue ooze along behind her. Aryn did not stop her frantic pacing until she came upon an appropriately sharp bramble at the correct height. "I'm not growing any fucking crystals today, nope, not me." With a short burst of panicked, near-crazed laugher, Aryn began to scrape the top of her skull against the thorns in an attempt to dig out the growths.