Noctilia cried in the darkness. Terror gripped her, a vague feeling of dread creeping up her spine like a ruptured sack of newborn spiders. Night elves don't know true darkness. Even in the dimmest darkest part of the forest, their keen eyes see as well as midday. This night though seemed unwholesome and uncanny. Only the ghost touches of her feet on the smooth surface on which she stood gave any grounding of up or down. No horizon, no differentiation, all was the suffocating void. It pressed in on her.