A Gentle End or a Torturous One?

Ears perked, listening to Gem's tale. A cloak filled with fireflies? It sounded almost pretty. Gypsy hadn't been born blind. She had been made blind. Just as she hadn't been born tailless. She remembered fireflies; their golden, glinting pulsations of light. To the bling fae, it didn't sound as ominous as Gem made it out to be, but she hadn't been there to witness it. She'd been on another continent entirely.

"Where shall we go now?" The small woman had no other ideas as to what they should be doing. She'd tried digging a bit but nothing had seemed off. "What else do you see? Is there anything strange about these towers?"

"Gypsy" "Bertha"