Eventually, they stood.
Not because any of them had finished processing what had happened, but because sitting there was not going to make the ground feel more like ground. There was only so long six people could stare at grass that bent in the wrong direction before the staring ceased to be useful and became another kind of danger.
The light bothered Vane most.
It came from somewhere that was not quite overhead, casting shadows at angles that changed depending on where he stood. Turn one way, and his shadow leaned east. Turn another, and it stretched behind him as though answering to a different sun entirely. It felt as if several weak sources of light were arguing over the landscape, each insisting the world belonged to it.
