A sudden chill fell over the Woods. The gust of wind that drove into Sunjata's back carried with it a scent that did not belong here, a fragrance of snow and ice, of honey and crisp apples, and the heady scent of lavender. Curiously, even the dusty, dry smell of parchment and ink.
There came a soft sigh from somewhere just behind him, and a figure appeared, just in the periphery of his vision. Someone was standing there behind him, small and pale, and no matter how he turned his head, the figure would remain.
It was looking at him.
There came a soft sigh from somewhere just behind him, and a figure appeared, just in the periphery of his vision. Someone was standing there behind him, small and pale, and no matter how he turned his head, the figure would remain.
It was looking at him.
