"Get away from here,"
Anareizh's voice brought her to attention, her bleary vision twisting over the moonlit grove. A Taranan darted through a field choked with flowers, and Malaicacynne winced in sympathy, seeing the rash on the dragon's arms. The grove was filled with enough irritants and poisons to keep most animals away - sapients, however, tended to have more motivation.
Malaicacynne watched the scene before her from inside her protective bubble, Anareizh coiled around the sphere like wrapped wire. A human in a white cloak, knee-deep in stinging nettle and oleander, slowly walking closer as if mesmerized. Thorns tore at their tights, spilling blood and sap on their legs, and still they walked on.
They placed a hand on her sphere of magic.
She reached out, and saw her hand was white and winged.
A smile crossed their face for just a second before Anareizh bit down on their shoulder.