King Elk Forest born under a bad sign

The richness of these hinterlands were not lost on him. He moved through the forest with a slight jealous of the bounties of the forests, the glades, the rivers. The smell of prey was still strong, even though the night was dark. As far as he could tell, there were no terrors here, none that he would fear. The bears were growing fat and sluggish as the months cooled. The mountain lions were crepsecular, remaining on the mountainside. The packs were asleep, daylight creatures as they were. Only he was awake, a dark shade slinking through the elk-drenched forest, shadows tossed over him like a cloak.

But he was not alone. He spotted another wading through the night, paler than he, but no less comfortable in the dark. He paused, focusing his gaze on him for a brief moment. Miraak followed, wondering how long it would take for the man to be aware of his presence.