Haunted Wood a fearful devotion to a place without shape

Indeed the hunter would become the hunted. The moment she had stepped across the border, he was already following her. At first, he kept his distance, studying her pattern and what she might be after. Logically she would be heading toward the caches, but her scent was similar to that of the twisted woman Maegi who had come to try and take Hela home. Was this another attempt to try and coax the young female to go back to their woods?

No, her trajectory continued on that toward the caches. The famine had dragged a hungry soul into their snare, into the flytrap's maw. Paws thudded against the ground at a quickening pace as he now aimed to close the distance between himself and the trespasser, closer, closer until the dark figure finally came into sight. A growl announced his presence, tearing through the silence of the mist surrounding them. This was his mist, after all, he had called this fog home long enough to know the ins and outs of it and she could not hide from him in this pale shroud. 

Darkened lips pulled back as gums glittered in the pale light, thick yellowed fangs exposed to the mist before he charged forward to the poor soul who had dared to cross the borders in order to nibble on their precious belongings. A train with teeth initiating a battle as he tackled her face first.