The forest grew darker and even the faerie lights began to disappear. The thread glowed softly in the darkness, continuing onward as the low laughter fluctuated in volume. Suddenly there was a parting in the trees and Rhys would find himself standing in a clearing at the edge of a pool of what at first glance looks like black water but is actually deep indigo, like the ink Kurloz uses. At the centre of the pond there is a small islet and a large tangled mass of thorns in a poor parody of an egg, the purple thread wrapped around it several times and leading into the cocoon.