I kept my eyes fixed on the coin as if staring hard enough would somehow force it to behave like a normal, respectable piece of currency again. It did not cooperate.
It just lay there in the center of the clearing, completely still now, which somehow felt more threatening than when it had actually moved. At least when it moved, I knew what the problem was. Now it was pretending nothing had happened, and I hated that far more.
There are very few things in life more dangerous than something that acts innocent after doing something suspicious.
I let out a slow breath and shifted my weight slightly, trying to keep myself grounded while my thoughts began their usual spiral into increasingly worse possibilities. Coins did not move on their own. That was a basic rule. If that rule was broken, then either I had completely lost my mind, or something else here was playing by a very different set of rules.
Considering my recent life decisions, both felt equally possible.
