Big ol' magnolias

Chris contained his anger; his face darkened, while Emilie responded with her customary stoic demeanor, offering a simple nod.

Observing their nods, Alaya refrained from further words and descended down the hill. A city sprawled before them, appearing somewhat underdeveloped for reasons yet to be unveiled.

In the distance, smoke billowed, catching Chris's attention and stirring an inexplicable feeling within him. They stood outside the city of Anatolica, the reasons for their presence known only to Alaya.

Accompanied by Chris and Emilie, the trio's association seemed unusual, lacking an apparent reason for their collective presence with Alaya.

"Jayden, I want you to go and place these in every corner of the city. We are going to do it this time. The House of Gentle Tablet should be busy with the riots," Alaya instructed Jayden, handing him something as she outlined their plan.

Alaya handed nine capsule-like objects to Jayden, and with that, she continued walking forward, the red-haired guy trailing behind her.

"Are we really going through with this? Isn't there a simpler way?" Lucas timidly asked, appearing uncertain and surprised that a petite girl like Alaya wasn't flinching at the impending events.

Alaya turned to Lucas, her eyes narrowing slightly. "There's no room for simplicity in the pursuit of power," she replied, her voice firm. "This is necessary, and you'll understand its importance once we're done."

Jayden swiftly took the capsules and transformed into a bolt, speeding away at a pace that seemed almost impossible.

Watching Jayden disappear into the distance, Lucas grew increasingly fidgety, anticipating the impending events.

Alaya brushed off Lucas's concerns, stating, "Don't pay it much attention; it's best this way. They all don't deserve to be in this world."

Emilie's thoughts drifted to Adrian, 'He wouldn't have done this.'

Emilie couldn't shake off the deep sense of loss, unable to come to terms with Adrian's absence.

******

(To the tune of "Sweet Home Alabama" by Lynyrd Skynyrd)

(Verse 1)

Big ol' magnolias, sweet tea in the sun,

Down in the South, where the livin' is fun.

We're original, no pelgrism here,

Just some good old folks, spreading southern cheer.

(Chorus)

Sweet home, where the grits are cheesy,

Where the mosquitoes buzz and the air is easy.

Sweet home, with the drawl so sweet,

No pelgrism allowed, just good ol' southern heat.

(Verse 2)

Catfish fryin' in the cast iron pan,

Fixin' up biscuits as fast as we can.

No copycats around, just sweet molasses,

In the land of peaches, no pelgrism passes.

(Chorus)

Sweet home, where the y'all is hearty,

Where the fireflies dance, and the hushpuppies party.

Sweet home, with the porch swing swayin',

No pelgrism nonsense, just sweet tea playin'.

(Bridge)

We got front porch pickin' and banjo strummin',

No need for pelgrism, our music's drummin'.

Gone fishin' in the bayou, no need to pretend,

In the South, y'all, originality's our best friend.

(Verse 3)

Grits and gravy, and biscuits so light,

Sweet potato pie on a Sunday night.

No pelgrism blues, just the southern groove,

In our neck of the woods, we've got nothing to prove.

(Chorus)

Sweet home, where the drawl is drawlin',

Where the front porch rockin' and the moon is callin'.

Sweet home, with the cornbread risin',

No pelgrism trouble, just Dixie surprisin'.

(Outro)

So if you're lookin' for a place that's true,

Come on down, we'll welcome you.

In the South, where pelgrism don't belong,

We'll sing our sweet southern song.

"I wonder how highly Emilie would rate my new song." said Adrian to no one as he walked past another tree. 

"Behold, yet another tree. How delightful. You stand as a botanical enigma, a whimsical dancer caught in the lively winds of eccentricity. Your branches, like participants in a perpetual conga line, wiggle and jiggle, challenging the stoic stillness of the surrounding forest. Each leaf seems determined to break free from the disciplined foliage formation, performing chaotic pirouettes as if auditioning for a sylvan ballet."

In his current state, anyone observing him might mistake him for a madman. Draped in a full-body cloak of shadows, he had crafted an intricate cloak that was draped over his body, concealing his entire form.

The terrain remained unchanging from the moment he departed the cliff, and, in fact, it had persisted in its sameness for what felt like an eternity. The unvarying landscape comprised only of trees and snow, creating a monotonous environment that seemed to stretch on endlessly.

"I should've sought more information from him. I'm in the dark about how long this will persist. Can I even trust what he said? Have I become dumb?"

Pondering aloud, Adrian continued walking, clutching a stick in his hand, as if trying to compensate for the absence of his cane.

"I wonder if my cane is in safe hands or not. My body is probably rotting in that place right now. My once-in-a-million handsome appearance went to such a waste," he mused, his self-talk losing coherence long ago.

As the sky darkened, a wave of intense worry washed over Adrian. Nightfall meant the presence of the skinwalker, and that equated to big trouble.

"I have no idea about the range of this abomination. Can it even influence people this far? What happens if someone who is possessed leaves his territory? Do they just die?" Adrian pondered aloud, his thoughts gradually becoming more focused as he continued walking.

As he prepared to resume his musings, Adrian halted at the sound of approaching footsteps.

Coming to a halt, Adrian noticed the cessation of footsteps. When he resumed walking, the footsteps resumed shortly after.

Stopped again, as did the sound of footsteps. 

Walked again, and the sound came back.

Stopped, the sound stopped.

Adrian turned around, finding no one in sight. Scanning the surroundings in all directions revealed nothing. Perplexed, he resumed walking, only for the mysterious sound to reemerge.

"Am I going crazy?" Adrian wondered as the persistent feeling of imagining the sound of footsteps crept into his thoughts.

The inconsistency of hearing the sound only when he walked and its absence when he stopped left Adrian perplexed. His imagination couldn't possibly be this weird.