The air above the lake was alive with thousands of bright green butterflies, swirling and dipping in time to some music only they could hear. They were coherent in their flight, an intricate airborne waltz that would have left any visitor speechless. The only person to see this display was a young man, probably in his early twenties, stood at the end of the small wooden jetty. His eyes shone with a feverish glint and there was sweat upon his brow. He looked ill, but even so, he seemed to marvel at the sight of the butterflies.
He twisted his hand gently and they dived, skimming across the surface of the lake and up again, moving higher and higher until they were just above the trees that surrounded the stretch of water. The boy inclined his head, and the butterflies started to fall. Except, by now, they weren't butterflies at all but oak leaves coming to rest on the forest floor or falling gently onto the glassy surface of the lake.
He braced his hands on his knees, exhaling a shaky breath. Stupid. Stupid Stupid. He'd done too much with that illusion, he'd gotten too ambitious too-- Fuck. He'd chosen the lake for it's out of the way location, it was just on the outskirts of the small university city in which he lived, but in retrospect that seemed like a foolish idea. Russ wasn't sure he could walk, let alone walk back. He took a few steps before the first wave of dizziness hit, and for a moment he was seized by a feeling of absolute panic. If he collapsed now, how long would it be before someone found him? Would Lapin or Asa think to look for him here? Russ looked around desperately for someone to call out to, the quick movement causing him to stumble and fall to the floor. A few moments later, he was unconscious.