Broken Antler Fen i don't care if the sun don't shine

his excitement faded quickly upon seeing the shadow, and instead, nightmare fell upon him. cam took a step back, then another, feeling chills ripple over his body. he dared not look upon the man's face, his eyes, his teeth—

snapping, biting, driving him back— the mountain had no mercy

you, he managed, punching the word through clenched throat, breathless lungs. y-you're not. . . belatedly, he realized his answer was not suitable to the question, and began to panic further, trying to think. he was all but panting now, sides heaving as he tried not to think of

pain, blinding; blood on his flank

he shook his head quickly. no, cam continued, no. you were on the m-moonspear; you're not supposed t-to b-be. . .

here? alive? well, damn him.

he had come for a friendly face and instead gazed upon the countenance of his worst day, and cam was utterly flummoxed by it.