Deepwood Weald Lovec netvorů

There was a presence—of that he was sure—but locating it was no simple task. The creature was cunning, perhaps even more so than they were. What was about to unfold was a dance, a blind exchange of observation, in which—for now—the creature held the upper hand, for it could see.

Frenu was taut with unease; prey like this was not to be taken lightly.

With a tilt of his head, he had tried to signal to his companion the path she should take, while he would follow another. They needed to go around, to encircle the threat, to read the terrain and hope to trap it.

The earth beneath his heavy paws felt treacherous, shifting faintly—as though it might give way at any moment.

The forest had gone still, as if holding its breath in anticipation of the clash to come. All waited, silent. Tension climbed like a rising tide…

Awesome illustration!