Neverwinter Forest Piscean

The violent rejection of his advance stopped him for as long as it lasted — but when she drew breath to answer him, he took another cautious step forward. As ready as he was to jump back, he was just as ready to press his luck and draw closer once more.

But his eyes, slitted and mean as they were, wore a contemplative cast rather than a bloodthirsty one. He was not a man without sympathy, after all. Everyone's time came, and he was all too aware that, one day, it would be his. He did not believe he'd be given the choice between a violent death and going gently into that good night — but he knew that, if he did have a choice, he just wanted it to be fast.

The girl had failed this test. She hadn't been quick enough. It would be a kindness, he thought, to kill her now and end her suffering.

"Why not here?" he asked her instead. Why trespass instead of requesting succor? Was there another place she hoped to reach? One that she would not reveal to him? "Are you one of the moon wolves?"

She didn't smell like one. And, even if she answered, he bounty hunter was not confident in his ability to tell truth from lies. He watched her anyway, still testing the boundaries of her personal bubble.