Deepwood Weald tell me, how does it feel?

There was someone here, a stark white beacon in the fog. Themis slowed her stride to a near crawl.

This one carried scents with her, unfamiliar, foreign. Steadily, the greyscale woman prowled that smallest bit closer.

Παύση! She didn’t even notice her language switch. She’d been making an effort to use her mother tongue more around her children.

Είσαι φίλος; Εχθρός?