Blackfeather Woods Searchers after horror haunt strange, far places

In his short life Mou had endured far, far too much danger. He'd survived numerous potential endings. In a past life he had been a warrior - or an aspiring one, anyway. No semblance of skill had carried over; he was not a fighter, not a hunter, but while he stood there Mou was keenly attuned to his surroundings. He didn't move. He barely took a breath, and had to keep turning his head to gte a better look at the amorphous shadows around him. It didn't help that half his vision was lost to a perpetual void.

If someone was there watching him, he didn't know where they were hiding. Nothing smelled amiss. There was a breeze buffeting the boughs overhead - disrupting some of the birds roosting - but once that resolved itself there was stillness. He slowly sighed a breath and began to move again, stalking along with his nimble limbs, but would pause every few feet to look and to listen. Mou wondered if he had been found by the wolves of Moonspear after all. That meant they'd all be in danger --

But if that were the case, the Cerberus wouldn't be able to hold back. They would have set upon him immediately, and satisfied whatever make-believe debt they thought he still owed. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling of eyes upon him - and he grew nervous, his tail twitching and steps slowing.