|(#TwilightRealm, #Witches, #Dorch #Fae, #Oakenlings, etc. belong to the lovely @LadyLeaf - ALSO Robin the Bubble Magician and Mark Frost)
Marea had taken her cell phone and walked a short distance away to call her mother for details about the six Damians they'd be mimicking. For a while, the young Witch listened silently, then she seemed to be absorbing something with the screen pressed to her forehead. But long after she lowered the phone, Marea continued peering absently out into the darkness. She did have several crystals in her hand; for all Mark Frost knew, the Witch could be deeply involved in some arcane process. The only thing he was certain about was that it looked like staring into space. And he was concerned.
Moving up behind her to the right, he stated gently, "Marea, if you're not going to be able to cope with taking down eight Yelaadim, your Gran... no, scratch that, I need to know."
"I can't ask you, or Belandvyn, or anyone to pick up the slack for me."