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2.3

Clint can see shadows run about flitting from tree trunk to tree trunk rattling bushes and snapping branches. Clint throws a hatchet at the nearest one though instead of a satisfying thud it passes through and embeds in a tree behind it. A still image becomes translucent then disappears.

“LEAVE HUMAN YOU DO NOT BELONG” booms from around Clint. The whispers are becoming louder, the discordant strings and wails of broken instruments and cackles are deafening to Clint.

Clint throws his shield from his back on the ground, clattering metal reverberating with the guttural roars from Clint screaming.

"RaaAAHHH! SHIRAK!" Clint draws his sword in rage and frustration chasing after these ghosts and shadows crashing through the woods, severing limbs and branches from trees when these humanoid figures appear before him.

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A bright light of the moon radiates from his sword. Though with each cut it finds no purchase or relief from the tormentor’s machinations.

Clint makes his way deeper into the Cloakwood forest. A place many have turned from, too afraid and for good reason, but Clint didn’t care.

Clint didn’t care and was blinded by a fury and pain that just wanted the noises to stop. He couldn’t ignore the ghastly shapes because any one of them could be real hidden among them. He was so distracted that he couldn’t hear Vanyel call out to him. Nor could he see the shadow that was slowly walking at an eye's distance behind Clint. Barely visible except from the leaves and broken debris being kicked up in Clint's wake floating slowly in the air the deeper they got into the depths of the forest.