Crimson admittedly felt guilty, hiding as she was in her shroud. It wasn’t quite invisibility and it wasn’t quite hiding in the veil, more akin to hiding close to the shore of the lake, hiding just below shallow waters. The world around her appeared grey and ashen as wind howled and black shapeless clouds the size of her head whipped past at blinding speeds, incorporeal and as unreal as the things a child feared in the darkness beneath their bed. She could see the world as it was, as if through a window pane darkened.