Liška

If not for the night weighing down on her, the forest would have been a haven of beauty amidst the chaos of the wars and cities. Instead, she wrapped her cloak around her tightly, tail twitching at every whisper of wind in the tree branches above her. Boarding on swampland, but lacking enough moisture to make the inhabitants miserable, the forest was overgrown with thick trees and dense undergrowth to block any path previously made. The light of the moon could barely push past the foliage overhead, leaving the earth captive to shadows and flickers of light. Where the shadows faded, a hint of color shone through, a promise of the beauty currently hidden.

There were no paths to follow, barely space to crawl between some of the trees. The kitsune huddled close to the mist beside her. She avoided the light diligently, the white of her brown-tipped tail and ears serving as a beacon to any predators. Her ears were kept pressed back against her head, hidden by the auburn of her hair, while the tail was kept concealed beneath the cloak. It was a mistake to come into the place at night, she knew, but it was the only time she had been able to get away. The mist beside her flickered between existence, occasionally taking its material form for the briefest of seconds. It served more as a comfort than an aid for the moment, keeping close to it's kitsune mistress.

It had to be here somewhere. She could sense it, every hair on her head on end. The problem was the forest. It was cloaking it, keeping it hidden from anyone looking. And there were many on the hunt. She had already encountered several other seekers, leaving them behind in a trail of blood.