Otter Creek I'll be the match to your candle

This night was harsh, with a biting cold that well suited the steel youth stalking amongst the shadows. The charcoal sky was coated in an ashen haze, as though the clouds had poisoned the stars and hidden them away where nobody could discern them again - in this eerie darkness, twisted trees loomed over the river and leaves rustled in an unsteady breeze. As though the silence had tempted out a monsterous beast, Aries strode through the land with a gaze of ice to pierce the tenebrosity. The soft sound of steadily flowing water could be heard, and the Svartell instinctivly began to strut in that direction.

When he arrived, he did not step forth from the darkness he had shrouded himself in, watching as though he were a panther eyeing helpless prey from a distance.  A pale woman hiding beneath a tree was curled into a compact ball to shield out the cold, and the soldier allowed himself to observe her from where he hid. In the moonlight, she appeared almost etheral, as though she were a wandering ghost trapped in a foreign world. A small exhale of breathe left his muzzle, but he made no movement to announce his presence.