The moving island that had been a constant on the horizon was shifting again, leaving, and as it left the ground shook and fissures appeared.

One, right on their doorstep.

Nephthys has watched it for over a week at this point, waiting for something hellish to spring out and attack the small pack. But it's only been shooting off lightning occasionally, sucking in water as tides rise and fall, always letting out an eerie blue light.

Safe, somewhat, another problem that was at a safe distance.

But something called to Nephthys, as she stared at it from her shores, something primal in her soul that ached and stretched and reached towards one of the gaping maws of Mythris. A calling, and urging of the world around her that she finally gave into that morning.

The air crackled around her as she stood at a safe enough distance, her hackles raised instinctively as she looked down. The look on her face was one of... excitement? Thirst? Fixation.