Her fingers click the catch on the little white box, not bothering to caress the finely polished bone this time as she has so many times before. No. she is intent on revealing relief to herself, in the form of her prize.
But when the lid lifts, there are two ring-shaped dents in the soft silk, each dent empty of a Rose Ring.
Each dent, furthermore, filled with the damning white fluid.
Her eyes turn red as she pitches the box out into the hallway, her furious screeches storming through the halls before her own angry feet as though they are not merely herald of some mad and violent bird, but rather the bird themselves.