Her legs ate away at the ground beneath her, skirts hiked up by a single hand, the other holding a guiding candle light as she rushed down the cold hallway. Yvette had always hated the draping of the heavy curtains, the colour of the walls and the ghastly portraits her husband was so set on displaying. Previous wives, his favourite horses, all of them decaying with the ancient decor of the room itself, discoloured and old; another way to describe her husband.

This day was different though. On that day, the shifting fabric and her loud heartbeat were the only thing she could hear. The odd heavy, panting breath as she stumbled towards her devote husbands quarters. She'd been roused by her handmaiden during the night, her tone alarming and informing her of something she'd wished of for years. And yet, in that moment, a wash of panic paled her features. Her chest hurt, tightening at the grave news.

"He collapsed in the middle of his room, ma'am,"

"We've sent for the physician, Your Grace,"

Various times she'd pictured this day, but never did she imagine such emotions would follow her as she chased after the fleeing shadows that danced on the limestone pillars and creaking wooden floors. It seemed as though his door at the end of the hall was running from her, an illusion perhaps forged by her racing mind. Seconds felt like minutes until she finally released her skirt and reached for the handle, only instead of the gold brass against her fingers, she felt a nothing but her body teetering forwards.

A strangled cry fell from the woman's lips, messy, blonde wisps of hair sticking to the moisture on her cheeks. Oh right. She was crying. It was a strange thought to be woeful of someone estranged from yourself. She would be too late to cuss him into damnation, her scolds falling on deaf ears no doubt.

It was as if the world around her turned dark. She couldn't stop falling, wind grazing her cheeks and stinging them with a ferocious chill. Then there was light, blinding and encasing her body. Hues of pink and purple, the golden glow of the sun. Dawn's light. It was as if a calm too over, her breath wooshing from her lungs, replaced with a freshness that could not compare. Yvette felt... weightless. The moment of peace brought a faint smile to the Duchess' lips.

A dream. It had to have all been a dream.

A dream that was growing louder by the minute, reality soaking into her body. The wind around her, so loud as it shouted in her ears. Her body, weightlessly falling. A scream ripped from her throat, limbs frantically kicking out and clawing at nothing. The movements felt alien, uncoordinated and overpowered by the elements around her. The woman's mind was grasping at straws. She would awaken soon, no? This was all just a bad dream. Seconds once again felt like minutes until her prayer was answered.

With a winded gasp and a loud thud, she landed, doubled over a trunk clinging to a cliff side. Terror filled eyes peered at the lip of the cliff, a foot above her. It would have been within reach if she hadn't been in the position that she was, front legs over one side and back over the other. Wait. Legs? Front legs. Her wide eyes peered at the paws in front of her and a cry ripped from her lips.

Oh no, oh no! What is happening to me?! she almost leant back, the slight shift in body weight causing the trunk to creak and her body to begin to slip. As if instinct took over, the woman clung onto the tree, eyes eyes faltering on the ground far below. They would remain there, stuck as tears began to well up once more.

Help me... she snivelled a whisper,

Someone help me! her cry came, body tense and outlook on the work growing ever darker.

This nightmare was never ending.