Ravensblood Forest The last wish.

Ciri rumbled a low growl in frustration, not wishing, to draw any further attention to herself by glancing toward the branches on which the nuisance corvids gathered. She quickened her stride a little, keen to place distance between herself and the birds as swiftly as her aching limbs would allow without having to run, and refused to acknowledge them by looking over a shoulder. Their awful voices followed her for a time, echoing through the woods until she withdrew from their sight and the forest fell silent again.

There was another presence within, however - ahead of her, not behind. The young wayfarer lifted her tired gaze to find the face of a stranger look her way with a single amber eye, which was rather... unsettling. Ciri eased to a halt and watched quietly, seeing shadow mark the rogue's otherwise pallid features and a number of old wounds litter his frame.

She did not greet this stranger vocally, for he seemed incredibly on edge to have crossed his path with hers. Ciri let her tail hang limp at her ebony hocks and splayed each ear backward once more, this time in silent communication: I am no threat to you.

The young Ostrega wasn't so certain that he might not seek to harm to her