A puff of Trudy's breath hits the Mothgarden symbol and lights it right up, a glowing blush of pink color. Trudy feels a rush of energy, fluttering wings and bright bubbles bursting beneath her skin. It's wonderful, energizing, inspiring, and it lingers as the ancient magimagicicada beside her comes back to life.

The old woman exhales against the symbol, her breath sparks of static and arcs of electricity. The Mothgarden symbol hums and the bark on this side fills with color.

The old woman freezes.

Above, the sound of cicadas singing grows louder.