Winter Forest

Lashing out Ouros instinctively, I commanded the earth to bellow towards whatever it is that suddenly appeared in the scope of my perception. Heeding my call, the earth rose like a furious deluge taking the form of magma, flooding the land and engorging it in a pulsing skin of seething rock.

I swiveled on my feet, my staff slinging to my back as I prepared again to strike down whatever managed to slip past my meticulous perception.

But as it began to set in, and my brain associated a certain identity to the vaguely feminine, but otherwise distorted voice, a look of surprise took hold of my expression.

“Come out! Show yourself!” I growled at her. But I knew she would not.

My outburst was born of my tense nerves and the fact that this mysterious figure had been at the crux of two very important events. And although she never displayed hostility or presented a danger to my life, it was unnerving to be stalked this way.

In here, it equated to being hunted.