NyraThe forest floor was slick beneath her feet, roots like claws grasping at her ankles as she ran—breath sharp, heart louder than the baying behind her. The scent of blood and iron clung to the mist, thick and metallic, a cruel reminder of how close they were.
Nyra stumbled, nearly falling, her cowl slipping—ears twitching as she yanked it back into place. She wanted to turn back, to hide, to fight—but then—a rustle.
Not from behind. Ahead.
Her red eyes darted through the dense undergrowth, body tense like a drawn bowstring.
“…Who’s there?” she hissed, voice low, gentle despite the tremble. “I swear if you mean to harm me, I’ll make you regret it.”
She crouched low, lips already forming the shape of a spell, even as her instincts begged her to flee again.
Nyra stumbled, nearly falling, her cowl slipping—ears twitching as she yanked it back into place. She wanted to turn back, to hide, to fight—but then—a rustle.
Not from behind. Ahead.
Her red eyes darted through the dense undergrowth, body tense like a drawn bowstring.
“…Who’s there?” she hissed, voice low, gentle despite the tremble. “I swear if you mean to harm me, I’ll make you regret it.”
She crouched low, lips already forming the shape of a spell, even as her instincts begged her to flee again.
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