Standing off to the side, forced to observe like a phantom, completely unable to affect the perverse desecration of the Ancient Oak playing out before her, Virve trembled in rage as she listened to the Lothian Lord's growing excitement at the growing list of atrocities and sacrilegious uses he he had in mind for the body of the once revered Ancient Oak.
Moments later, however, Virve dropped to her knees in agony as the vision moved forward, revealing a veritable army of human butcher weilding saws and chisels, drawing knives and rasps and dozens of other tools as they began cutting into the tough wood of the Ancient Oak.
The sensation of those saws, rasps, and chisels tearing at her flesh overwhelmed Virve's senses as the Ancient Oak allowed her to feel what the tree had felt as the humans began reducing it to so much furniture and kindling.
