Snippet #2721807

"You think so?" Ada asked, a nervous relief finding her tensed stomach.

Regardless of Phillipe's confidence, however, there was something about this part of the Silverthorn that made her skin crawl. There was little noise in the air - no birds or small mammals buzzing about; between the deafening silence and the lack of airflow, Ada felt like she couldn't breathe.

They broke into the fog blindly, the pathway under their feet becoming harder and harder to see. With such low visibility Ada felt like she was walking through a dreamscape, her sense of direction disappearing, her confusion increasing. Sounds occasionally struck through the dense air: snapping twigs, distant footsteps, muffled voices. The redhead came to a sudden halt as a growl sounded to her left. Her fingers eagerly drew her knife and she pressed closer to Phillipe, her grasp upon him tightening.

The beast, concealed by the fog, was evidently circling them, his small movements and voice heard from all sides. A loud snarl behind them. Ada swung around, eyes wide with adrenaline, but the creature didn't appear. Instead there was a terrible clatter, some sort of struggle, and then the bloodcurdling wail of an injured animal.

"These parts of the woods aren't safe, you know," came a voice from the direction of the fight. A shrowded figure could be dimly seen behind them, standing rather tall and thin.

"We are searching for the Fog Walkers," Ada replied, unsure of the man. "We were told their leader may have some information we are seeking."

The figure moved forward enough where he could be seen more clearly, though still somewhat concealed amidst the fog. He seemed to be older than them, perhaps by a decade, and had swooping red hair much like Ada's. His eyes, which were a deep forest green, scanned the two without expression, though lingering on their interlocked fingers for a moment too long. "You are lucky to be alive," he sighed. "My pack is at war with another at the moment, despite our peaceful intentions. They wish for our marshlands and they'll attack anyone in the fog."

"You are a Fog Walker?" Ada inquired, brows furrowing. He did indeed seem much more welcoming than the Red Hand. Perhaps Phillipe had been right all along.

The stranger nodded. "You have come to speak with the Master, then. I regret that he is very busy with our trading network, but he is likely to be free of his obligations later tonight. If you wish, I will take you to our residence. We have very little hospitality to offer for food is scarce around these parts, but I don't anticipate you staying long. Shall we?"