"You know, taking your mind off of something works markedly better if you don't actively dwell on the thing."

It took a moment for Gase to register the words. He looked up at Holin as the hunter led their way through the undergrowth.

"Doesn't it bother you at all?" Gase asked as he shifted the net he carried from one shoulder to the other. He stepped onto a moss-covered log, almost falling down when the outer layer of rotten wood gave way beneath his boot. He flung an arm out and caught himself on a nearby branch, only to find his hand covered in sap afterwards. He looked at the thin tree and saw its yellow bark glistening with the sticky substance.

His mouth twisted in distaste as he tried to rub his hand clean on some leaves. What possible use could a tree have for such a trait? Holin had suggested coming out here after learning that they had left what he called 'the pull of the horde'. Supposedly it was so Gase could clear his head and get perspective, but he suspected the hunter simply bored.

Not that the trip had done either; clear his mind or grant perspective, that is. Instead, he was quickly growing tired of this expedition. Tired and hungry. To make matters worse, the forest seemed to have grown denser over the past while. And the overcast sky didn't help with visibility either.

"Not really," Holin said, the man's words pulling back his wandering attention. His tone was relaxed, and he didn't bother looking back.

Gase frowned. "How could it not?"

Sure, some things you had to experience to understand, but surely his description of that forsaken place should have left some impression.

Holin shrugged. "Doesn't seem like something worth worrying over. Not many things are, to be honest."

Gase stared at the man's back. The lapse in attention caused him to miss the thorn bush at his side. The tiny hooks caught onto his shirt and scratched the skin beneath. With an annoyed grunt, he yanked himself free, breaking off a few of the vines.

"If that's not worth worrying over, what is?" Gase asked, a hint of irritation bleeding into his voice.

"Now you're getting it," Holin said and glanced back. His eyes glittered with amusement.

"Okay, okay," the hunter continued. "Let's assume for the moment that all of what you saw was indeed real."

"It was."

"That's the spirit!" Holin said, his cheerful demeanour not wavering a bit. "Now. Throwing aside all the arguments about whether this 'dead world' is really all that different from the... living world, I guess... what are you going to do about it? What can you do about it?"

Gase frowned.

"Thought as much. There is nothing you can do. Worrying about it won't help you in any way. In fact, it can actively work against you."

"So you're not even curious?" Gase asked, still not understanding how the man would just shrug all of this off. "That there is an afterlife? And that it holds nothing but a slower end? For all we know, we could end up there ourselves."

"Oh, it's interesting enough. If Kale were here, he'd be questioning you for days."

"Who's Kale?"

"A librarian at Stronghold. He has a thing for stories of afterlives—but that's beside the point. Dwelling on what's ahead or behind and ignoring what's in front of you seems like a fine way to get yourself killed. At least you'll know whether you wind up in this dead world afterwards, I suppose."

As he said this, another of the thorny branches grabbed onto Gase's clothes.

"Where are we, even?" Gase asked as he freed himself. "We have been wandering all over the forest since this morning!"

"Of course we are. Do you think the beast we have been following is travelling is a straight line? Does it have somewhere important to be, do you think?"

"We're tracking something?" Gase asked, surprised. They had put some distance between them and the line of refugees before Holin had suddenly veered off the road, telling him to follow. How long ago was that? He wasn't entirely sure, but it was long enough for the sun to have shifted quite a bit.

"Of course we are," Holin said. "What did you think?"

He hadn't, he realised. He had been too focused on the memory of the Dead World, turning it over in his mind again and again. With a start, he realised that he didn't even know in what direction the road was anymore.

Holin shook his head. "Come here."

The man walked a few more steps and knelt down. He brushed away a few leaves lay on the ground. In the dark soil, there was an imprint.

"This is the footprint of a stalker, the things that attacked the group yesterday," the hunter said.

At the mention of the stalkers, Gase leaned a bit closer.

"It's a lone stalker. See the depth and width of that impression? That's the front claw. The size of it indicates a male. My guess? This one didn't submit to the leader and was kicked out of the pack."

Gase looked back the way they had come. "And we have been following it the whole time? I didn't know."

Holin snorted. "No surprise there. These things are used to navigating the forest. You, on the other hand, have spent the entire time making sure any predator would have no trouble finding you. Hell, with the amount of destruction you caused to the plant life, maybe you'd get lucky and such a predator would mistake you for something larger."

Gase winced. Even with the beast attacks and all the death around him lately, he had allowed himself to be distracted. For all he knew, Holin might have already avoided other creatures without him even knowing.

"Shit. My head's not really been here, has it?"

"No, it has not. Its been so far up your arse I'm half-amazed haven't choked to death," Holin said with a grin. "You'll have to get it out soon though. If you're this distracted when you face the stalker things will turn out much worse than the last time."

The hunter turned and began walking again. Gase narrowed his eyes as he stared after him.

"When I face the stalker?"

"Yes. You. This is a good opportunity for you to see how the horde affects the mind of a beast, since you already fought against the stalkers before. Come on now, we are getting closer."

Gase looked at the man for a moment before shaking his head.

This time he focused on what Holin was doing, trying to copy his movements as the man stepped from root to rock, leaving little indication of his passing as he weaved between trees and shrubs. The roots turned out to be more slippery than Gase thought, and he nearly lost his balance a couple of times. The hunter didn't have any such difficulties, his feet managing to find the right spots even without the guidance of his eyes.

They continued this way, moving in silence with only the breeze rustling through the trees to keep them company. Gase thought he could smell rain in the air. He stopped for a moment and looked up at the grey in the gaps of the canopy. Not the uniform, lifeless grey of the Dead World, but grey clouds. He just hoped they would be done with the hunt before the clouds made good on their threat.

Ahead of him, he saw Holin stopped. He was about to ask why when the man tilted his head, something Holin tended to do when he listened. Gase did the same, but couldn't hear anything beyond the wind. He saw Holin's mouth stretch into a smile, and the hunter started moving again.

Not long after Holin stopped again and knelt down on the ground. He chuckled.

"What is it?" Gase asked as he moved up.

In front of Holin was a footprint, like the one the man had pointed out earlier, except this one seemed sharper. It stood out clearly and didn't have any leaves or dirt covering it.

"Something passed us a while back. Then it doubled back for a second look. I wasn't sure what it was, but now I am. Our stalker found us before we found it."

Was that what he heard before? Gase glanced around at the trees. Unlike himself, Holin didn't seem disturbed at all, quite the contrary; he looked excited.

"How do you know it was the stalker?" Gase ventured, looking at the track. He wasn't sure he'd like the answer.

"This," Holin said, pointing at the track. "Is bait. It's far too obvious. Back there, there were signs of something passing. A couple of snapped twigs and a clear spoor. It diverted slightly from the more subtle trail we had been following. I reckon if we head a ways in that direction" — he pointed to the side — "we'll find the old trail."

Gase felt a chill at the words. If the creatures were this smart...

"What do we do?"

"We follow, of course. Not every day when you see something like this. I want to see what our new friend has in mind."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Good is a relative term. As long as everything works out, it'll be a great idea," Holin said and looked back at him. "Don't worry too much, a bit of uncertainty is always a good thing when you're hunting. If you aren't feeling any, then you are deluding yourself. Besides, it makes things all the more interesting. Just keep an eye on your surroundings."

Gase decided to do exactly that. Between watching his step and scanning the area around them, it felt like his head was continually swivelling around. The hunter didn't have any such difficulties, walking with confidence despite his previous words.

Gase was once again scanned the area when he caught sight of something out of place. The ruins of a worn-down stone structure. At first, he dismissed it as some rock formation, but a second glance showed that the stones that were still visible underneath the vines and moss. They were cut and stacked on top of each other.

It was little more than his height and looked like it might have been the corner part of a wall. It leaned precariously and seemed about ready to collapse at any moment. Perhaps the only thing holding it upright was the plants that had grown over it. Around the still standing stones, more were strewn about, poking up from beneath the plants.

"Ruins," came Holin's voice.

He looked over as the hunter added. "May have been a watchtower or some such."

Gase gave the ruins another glance before placing them from his mind as he and Holin continued. Not long after he saw Holin hold up a hand. He stopped in his tracks and looked around for... something. He wasn't sure what but looking around was better than standing still.

He watched as Holin moved off to the side and disappeared between the trees. Unsure whether he should follow, Gase began to do so, trying to make as little sound as possible. He found Holin not far away, crouching in front of an overturned tree.

The hunter turned to look at him and shook his head. "We really need to work on your signals."

Gase didn't comment on the fact that Holin had never taught him any of these 'signals'. The man turned back to the tree. The trunk was about the size of his waist, and the green branches and leaves painted a picture of health. The exposed roots that were torn off near the trunk didn't. Holin ran a hand over the roots.

Splinters that littered the ground around the tree and the plants were flattened and broken. What drew Gase's attention however, was an imprint in the soil, part of it visible beneath fallen debris. Following Holin's example from earlier, he knelt down and brushed away the sticks and leaves.

The footprint it revealed was massive. It must have been the length of his arm and half as wide. The deep imprints clearly showed two long toes opposed by another in a 'Y' shape.

"What did this?" Gase asked with a morbid curiosity.

"An ald," Holin said. "Big three-legged bastards. Or one-legged and two-armed, I suppose. They've got a mean temper and strength enough to topple trees, as you can see."

"Not too recent though - two, maybe three, days." He added, picking up one of the loose leaves off the ground and pinching it between his fingers, before inspecting it. Then he glanced at the tracks. "One adult and one little one. Very young, newborn perhaps."

Gase felt a bit of relief at that. "Two days. They'd have moved on by now then, right?"

"Most likely. Alds slow movers when they take their time, but not that slow."

The hunter sounded almost disappointed at that.

They left the site, and Holin retraced their steps back to where they were before. Picking up the 'false' trail of the stalker once more, they continued.

Holin spent some time teaching Gase the hand signs and whistles he deemed necessary. Gase tried to commit everything to memory, but there was a lot, and he had to split his focus as he kept an eye on the surroundings and his footing. Occasionally Holin would stop to listen or look at something before continuing.

The going got tougher as they started up a slope. Twice Gase slipped and slid down a few steps before catching himself on some plant.

"It couldn't have just gone around the hill?" He voiced as his stomach growled. He really should have thought to bring some of the meat they had cooked the night before. Then he scoffed, he had a single filling meal in days, and already he was spoiled.

"Hm? Oh, no it did," Holin said from up ahead.

"So we left the trail? Why?"

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"It'll be easy enough to find. You may have noticed we've been on a relatively straight course since it started leading us, far different from its wanderings that we followed earlier. It has a destination in mind. I want to know what."

Luckily, It wasn't long before they reached the top of the hill and the trees opened up onto a short cliff. It was only about twice Gase's height, but it gave a good view of the downward slope beyond that led to a valley. And what a sight it was.

In the valley, there must have been dozens of those stone ruins, if not more. The white stones were visible enough that they caught the eye between the gaps in the tree cover. And that was only those that were still standing high enough to be visible. Gase guessed there must have been hundreds down there, underneath the plant-growth.

One thing that was clearly visible was a thick line of white that cut across the green. While worn down, it stood mostly unbroken - the wall of the ancient city.

"You done staring?" Holin asked.

"Are things like this common?" Gase asked, seeing the hunter's nonchalance.

"Common enough. I've come across quite a few of them, cities rise and fall. If you're lucky enough, you might stumble into one that hasn't been cleaned out yet. Some folk make their entire living chasing after hordes, picking what they can from the ruins left in their wake. A dangerous life, but you only need to get lucky once to be set. No doubt your previous home will be making a few people very rich, once word gets out. Something this old though? I'm afraid we're a couple of hundred terms too late."

Holin started circling the cliff, and Gase gave the scene a last look before hurrying to catch up. Like Holin said, picking up the trail wasn't that difficult. Not for the hunter at least.

When they reached the wall, Gase saw that it was in a much worse condition than he had thought. It was more akin to a long pile of rubble than a wall. The parts that weren't broken down had large cracks spreading through them, caused by countless terms of being worn down by the elements and the roots of plants and trees. Nearby, an entire section of wall had collapsed, no doubt helped along by the old tree now standing proudly in its place.

They passed through this gap in the wall and onto the other side, where they found more of the same. What once might have been a street between buildings had now been reclaimed by the forest. Earth covered the ground, with shrubs and trees growing where Gase imagined buildings once stood. Pieces of the ancient city still shone through the mask of the forest though. Parts of building walls still standing or piles of white stones breaking up the otherwise green and brown landscape.

Gase tried to decern patterns in the partial buildings, to recognise what they were, but those that were visible were simply too degraded by the passage of time. A piece of wall might just as well have belonged to a temple as it might a farmer's house.

Walking over the plant-covered stones, Gase understood what Holin meant by questioning whether the Dead World was any different than the living. The old died out and was broken down while the living grew upon and from it. Was the Dead World really that different?

It is.

The resemblance didn't mean they were the same. There was something about the Dead World that sent a shiver down his spine. At least here the old gave way for something healthy and new. In that place, there was no healthy, no new, no hope.

"It's here," Holin said.

Gase looked at the man before he realised the hunter was talking about the stalker. He quickly scanned the area, but he found nothing. That made it worse. The thought of it watching him while he couldn't see it...

The two of them moved between trees and the vestiges of the city, slowly moving deeper into the ruins. Occasionally Holin would hold up a hand and listen or signal for Gase to stay where he was while he went took a look at the surroundings. Here in the ruins, there was at least a little more space, the plant-growth a little less dense.

It was something Gase was glad for, giving him a somewhat clearer view of any potential danger, even if he didn't see the stalker. The more he observed, the more he became aware of just how much life was around him.

Long segmented bugs crawled over a rotten piece of wood nearby, birds called out from the trees. A soft rustle that nearly caused him to draw his sword turned out to be one of the two-tailed lizards that inhabited the forest. The animal seemed as surprised to see them as he was to see it. It froze for a moment, before scurrying over a collapsed stone pillar and up into a tree.

Ahead of him, he again saw Holin hold up a hand and stopped in his tracks. He saw Holin look around with narrowed eyes.

"What is it?" Gase asked, keeping his voice low.

"It's gone," Holin said. "Went up ahead."

"So what now, we continue?"

"What? You want to turn back when we got to the exciting part?"

"You're enjoying this a bit too much."

"You're not enjoying this enough," Holin shot back. "We stumbled upon a mystery and now is the great unveiling. I just hope it doesn't disappoint. Would be a—"

A roar from further up ahead drowned out whatever the hunter was going to say. Holin's head snapped in the direction it came from. For a moment, all was silent. Gase looked at Holin and saw understanding dawn on the hunter's face.

"Oh, you tricksy fucker."

Holin turned to him and pointed to the side. "Go! Circle around and keep heading on the forward. You'll find the stalker. And don't let it escape!"

With that said, Holin turned back to the front and drew his sword, a manic grin plastered on his face. Ahead of them, Gase could just begin to make out a loud rhythmic pounding, followed by another roar.

He cursed and did as Holin said, running down the side as fast as he could. He gripped his sword hilt in one hand and held the net in the other as he left the hunter behind.

His heart raced as his feet carried him forward through the ruins. Behind him, he heard a great bellow and what he thought was the shout of a person. He stopped and looked back. Even though Holin had told him to go on, he felt conflicted at leaving the hunter to face whatever it was.

He stayed on purpose.

Gase reminded himself. The man had given him a task to do, and he would see it through. Besides, Holin needed any help in a fight, then it was something far beyond himself. Some treacherous part of his mind whispered to him that he was a this was just the justifications of a coward.

He pushed that part to the side and kept going, turning to circle around the area, as Holin had told him to. How would he even find the stalker? Holin had said he would, but how? Groaning in frustration, he slowed his run to a fast jog through the ancient city, looking for any signs of tracks as he passed.

The commotion behind him had faded to a barely audible level when he passed a pair of stone pillars. A sharp pained yowl made him halt in his tracks. It didn't come from behind, but in front and to the side. Changing direction, he headed towards the sound. Snarls and snaps reached his ears. It was coming from a past a nearby wall.

Sprinting the last few paces to the wall, he crouched next to it and peeked around the corner. He froze. Staring back at him was the scaled head and beady eyes of a stalker. Dangling from its jaws were lines of bloody entrails that led to a still from in front of it. The dead creature laid on the ground, its three limbs splayed.

The stalker growled at Gase, and he instinctively took a step back. The beast bent down and grabbed onto the arm of the smaller creature in front of it. It took a step back, dragging its prize with it while its eyes remained locked onto Gase's.

Three legs.

That must be the young ald Holin had mentioned. Meaning he was fighting the thing that left those massive tracks. Gase clenched his jaw and slowly lifted the net off his shoulders. His palms were sweaty as he adjusted his grip on the rope. The beast growled again, and he swallowed.

Taking a breath to steady himself, he took a quick step forward and flung the net at the stalker. His unfamiliarity with the tool didn't help. It didn't unfurl and instead flew at the beast like a projectile. The stalker dropped the creature in its jaws and jumped to the side, dodging the harmless net.

Gase immediately drew his sword as the beast charged at him. He fell into rigour, hips twisted to the side and sword held close, the point towards the beast.

He stabbed forward, aiming to skewer the beast. Unlike its maddened brethren before, the beast nimbly dodged out of the way before leaping at him. Gase threw himself to the side. He hit the ground and rolled away. He got his feet under him in a crouch and turned, blindly sweeping the blade out in front of him. He felt the sword connect and was rewarded with a sharp yelp. He scrambled to his feet and retreated while locking eyes with the stalker.

A shallow gash crossed its scaled head, and a line of blood ran down its jaw. Little more than a scratch, but it seemed to have startled the beast. It eyed him warily as it began circling. Gase stepped the other way and retook his stance, the blade out between them.

The beast growled once more, showing its teeth, bloody from its prey. It lunged forward. Gase once more met it with a thrust. The beast slinked low, and the blade passed over its head. Gase hurriedly retracted the sword as he jumped back, barely managing to get it between them as the beast lunged. He pushed the blade to the side to ward off the snapping jaws as he spun away from the beast. One of the Stalker's claws dug through his shirt as it passed. It ripped the leather, and he felt the nails tearing across his chest.

Gase ignored the sting as best he could and hacked down at the beast. It darted away, his sword striking nothing but soil and the stone underneath. His breath came in quick huffs as he backed away, eyes locked onto the creature as they circled each other once again.

Thrusts won't work.

A thrust was the best way he could think off to get past the scales and cause significant damage. Yet, twice now, the lithe creature had managed to avoid them, leaving him open.

Gase shifted his guard to wrath, raising the blade above his shoulder. He tensed, expecting the beast to take the apparent opening. It didn't. Perhaps it recognised the aggressive nature of the stance, but it stopped its growling and seemed to regard him. It took a step to one side, then the other. Gase moved with it as it searched for something. He didn't know what but he knew not to give it to the beast.

The stalker seemed to come to a decision as it paused. Gase readied himself. The beast looked at him. Then it turned and ran. Gase stared as it disappeared around the wall, stunned. Snapping out of his daze, he ran after it with a curse.

He rounded the wall and caught a glimpse of movement behind a nearby tree. He changed course and headed towards it. Further they went, Gase always just a few steps behind. And then he wasn't. He stopped and looked around, scanning for movement but saw none. He listened, straining to hear over his own breathing.

A chill settled into his gut. Suddenly it seemed like a terrible idea to be chasing blindly after the beast that had lured them into a trap. Gase retreated a step, glancing around him. His eyes snapped towards a rustle in the bushes but saw nothing. A few moments later, the snapping of a branch came from another direction. He twitched with nerves at every slight noise as he retraced his steps, trying to look everywhere at once.

Did it go back for its kill? There was no reason for it to stay here and fight if it could just avoid him and still get its food. He wanted to run back to the site but stopped himself. What if that was what it was waiting for? What if he ran only for it to pounce on his back. Why settle for one meal when it can have two?

Fuck!

He picked up his speed as much as he could without dropping his guard. A flash of movement from the corner of his eye was all the warning he got. He immediately spun to the side. The act saved him as the stalkers jaws snapped shut next to his head before the rest of it barreled into him. The momentum of the beast sent him spinning to the ground.

Gase slammed into the earth, knocking the air from his lungs. He drew in a breath and immediately pushed himself up, knowing he couldn't stay down. He managed to get to his feet just in time to ward off the beast with a slash that it dodged. He raised his sword high, eyes locked onto the beast. Slowly he backed away as he got his breath back under control.

The beast did the same and retreated through the undergrowth. Gase immediately used the opportunity to get to a better position. He knew he only had a few moments before it fell on his back, so he quickly ran the last couple of strides back to the area where he first saw the beast.

He heard the soft, drumming footfalls behind him as the young ald's corpse came into sight.

Gase spun and dropped to one knee, sword slicing out. His strike caught the beast on the ribs before it sailed over him, one of its claws raking out, towards his face. Gase threw up an arm in front of him, and the hooked nails tore across his forearm and hand as the beast flew past.

He surged to his feet, pointing his sword at the beast. Agony lanced through his wounded hand as it closed around the pommel of his sword and he stifled a cry. The stalker was already back on its feet and began circling him once more. It seemed to have had enough of hit and run tactics. A line of red ran down its side, but Gase knew the wound wouldn't be anything more than an inconvenience.

If it was one of the maddened beasts from the before, the fight would have ended now. This stalker was a lot more cautious and a lot more deceptive. But it also meant it wasn't willing to sacrifice itself to kill him. And, if the exchanges so far were any indication, it would win in a drawn-out conflict. He needed to pierce its scales if he was to end the fight.

Gase grimaced as they circled each other. Ideas raced threw his mind, each discarded as soon as it popped up. He felt his foot strike something, and he quickly stepped over it as he kept his eyes on the beast. Seeing what it was, however, another idea came to mind.

The net.

Deciding to run with thought, he stepped back and dropped the tip of his blade, pointing it at the ground in front of him. Guile, the same stance that Holin favoured in their spars. He took deep breaths and forced himself to relax, emulating the hunter.

Perhaps wary of the big ald returning soon, the beast took the opening this time and darted forward. Gase hooked the tip of his blade below the edge of the net and flicked it upwards with all his strength as the beast lunged. Seeing the net in front of it, the stalker tried to twist away, but it was too late. Its front legs tangled through the net as it landed. It stumbled forward, tripping as its hind legs stepped on the net and slamming its head into the ground.

Gase was ready for it. He put all his weight behind the sword as he thrust forward. The tip of the blade entered next to the beast shoulder, piercing its scales and driving deep into flesh. The beast howled and struggled as Gase yanked the weapon back only to find it stuck.

Changing tactics, he yanked the blade from side to side as the beast struggled, using it to keep the creature at bay while worsening the wound. Blood spurted onto the ground, and the stalker finally freed itself. It stumbled as its front leg refused to hold its weight, its shoulder half-separated from its chest.

Gase darted forward again, Bringing down his sword in an overhand cut. The beast tried to dodge, but it's leg folded under the pressure. The sword hammered into the beast's head and sent a shock up his arms. It didn't penetrate the skull but knocked the already unsteady beast to the ground. Grabbing the blade in a half-sword grip, Gase stabbed down into the beast's neck. He leaned against hilt, driving the weapon deeper into the dying stalker.

It struggled, its thrashing nearly throwing him off his feet. Gase felt his bloody hand slipping on the blade and dropped down with his knee onto the beast's head. Using his wounded hand, he pushed its face into the ground as its jaws snapped. Even in its weaken struggles, he could barely keep its bloody maw away from him. It continued to struggle, each jerk weaker than the last as hot blood pumped out of its neck and over his hand and knee.

Gase stared into its beady eye, visible through his splayed fingers. He could see the life fading from the black orb as whatever animating force, soul or spirit, sought escape.

The inky depths seemed to swirl. It mixed with the red blood flowing around and from his fingers. Gase swallowed and felt himself being drawn into the sight, entranced.

The pain he felt faded to the background. The constant breeze disappeared from his hearing. His heartbeat was like a hammer striking his chest, each beat sinking him deeper into the rhythm.

When the fog lifted from his mind, his wounded hand was buried in the beast's chest, through the hole next to its shoulder. His fingers were clutched around something. He could feel it seeping into his wounds and flowing through his arm.

Gase wrenched his hand away and fell back. Shoving himself away from the corpse, he blinked rapidly as he tried to process what just happened.

"What..."

His bloodied hand shook as he held it up and stared at it. It took a few long moments for him to calm down. But it didn't bring him any closer to understanding. In the end, he just shoved the whole thing in the back of his mind. Stress can play tricks on the mind, even drive people mad. And gods knew he had enough of it. So he told himself.

Then he took a deep breath and slowly released it.

Need to get back to Holin.

The man might still be fighting for his life. If something happened to the hunter while Gase was busy staring at the corpse of a beast, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself.

And getting away from this place seemed like an excellent idea at the moment.

He stood up and freed his sword from the dead stalker. Every movement sent a spike of pain through forearm and hand, which he promptly ignored after wrapping it up with his shirt. It looked worse than it was, he had decided.

Not wasting any more time, he set off in the direction from which he had come. He kept his pace as quick as he could, but it still took a while before he finally heard a wail in the distance. It sounded high-pitched, pained and... weak. The sound ended and left only silence. Worry started to gnaw at him as his feet quickly ate up the distance.

Thoughts of arriving too late played on his imagination as he ran down what might once have been a street. He finally passed through a thicket of trees and onto the site.

Blood drenched the ground, mixing with the soil to create a reddish mud. Some distance away lay the body of a massive three-legged beast, covered in a hundred cuts.

Even though he thought he understood the ald's size, seeing it firsthand was something else. Each of its limbs was as thick as his waist, and its claws could have wrapped around his chest. Four branching horns sprouted out of its skull, covered in vines. Moss and grass grew on its brown skin. The parts that weren't covered in more blood that is.

In front of the unmoving beast stood a figure with his back turned towards him. It wore Holin's armour and held onto his sword, but its arms and shoulders were wrong. Long pointed ears stuck out through its black hair. The figure groaned, and Gase could hear a cracking sound as the man's arms seemed to contort, as if snapping back into place. The ears shrunk back down, losing their points and rounding out. The figure cracked its neck to the side and stretched.

"Ahh! That's better," Came Holin's voice. The hunter turned to him, revealing his face. The only thing that seemed out of place was a slight red glow to his eyes that faded even as he watched. That, and the blood that covered his mouth and dripped down his chin. He looked at Gase and flashed a red smile.

"I see you made it."

"...Yes," Gase said after he found his tongue. "What... just happened to you? Some kind of magic?"

The smile on Holin's face widened. "Something like that."

Gase eyed him warily. The ambiguous answer didn't help put his mind at ease. Half-remembered tales from Y'rid's memories surfaced. Stories of beastblighted and half-beasts stealing children.

"You're alright, then?" Gase ventured. "Nothing wrong?"

Holin looked down at himself, crimson streaks covering his armour. "This? Don't worry about that. Not mine. My Bloodletter can be a bit messy when she lets loose."

Not for the first time, he had to wonder whether the hunter was entirely sane. This was the first time, however, that he wondered if the man was entirely human in the first place.

"Good," Gase said and forced a smile that felt more than a little strained. "That's good."

No. No, this trip definitely didn't help clear his mind.