get out of my head

Hesitation was clear in Aryn's panicked eyes - this woman had given her nothing to go on, hadn't even answered whether or not she was sick (not that Aryn would have believed it, anyways.) She took a small step back, but was forced to stop as brambles jabbed her from behind. "I think it's a curse." She whispered. "There was a ghost, and he tried to protect me but -" Aryn's head turned, glancing around the briar suspiciously as if the ghostly canine could hear her, and speaking of it might summon it back. "The ghost attacked us, then the pack got sick. They're growing crystals, and mushrooms, and leaking fluid from their eyes. I ran away, but I got sick anyways."

She lowered her head, displaying her crown to the stranger. "I can feel the crystals growing in, just like my pack mates have. Can you see them? Can you pull them out?" Her voice grew more frantic, her heart pounding hard in her chest.