Re: Before Sunset.
Sunset crept up in slow motion. Illyria was eager in Fred's mind-space to be let out. The god was restless, and the promise of blood and broken bones proved a draw. Fred stood among her group, knowing she was doing the right thing. Illyria would never be tamed or broken by the creatures that would come. Fred drew upon Illyria's memories, sifting through hundreds of werewolves — the first werewolves in their world, unsullied by human blood — but still outmatched by the many-tentacled god. There were even packs of the first demons attempting to surround and break her, but it was only their howls of pain and death Fred saw.
Yes, it was the right thing to do, but Fred wished she didn't have to. Illyria was best kept locked and under her thumb, and there was no telling how long she'd have to let the god remain in control of their body. The shell. Illyria had gone back to calling her the shell, and because the rules of magic were being rewritten back home, Illyria was now more powerful than she'd ever been back in their dimension.
"I've gotta stop going back through her memories. It's all blood and gore," she told no one in particular and mostly to herself. Just because she was going to let her out didn't mean she had to like it. These werewolves were people, but after spending most of the day trying to communicate with them, Fred had determined that they weren't really the talking kind. Best to put their faces out of her mind.
As the pink fingers of dusk disappeared and the blue of the evening softly filtered across the treetops, Fred closed her eyes and allowed Illyria to take over.