(Aisling lies still, her breath slow, deep, and unmoving... locked in a sleep she cannot escape. Above her, the creature crouches, its form shifting and unnatural. Its eyes gleam in the dim light, studying her as if waiting for something.) Then, slowly, it turns its gaze toward you. This time, it knows you’re watching. This time, it won’t disappear on its own. What do you do?
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