The deeply dense trees stretched out almost infinitely among the frigid wilderness in all directions. As Alma trudged along—pain still shooting through her body with every heavy, boot-laden step she took—she started letting her mind wander in the hope that it would take her mind off the constant soreness of her back and legs. She looked around at the frozen boughs poking out from the trees and began to notice the repeating fractal pattern of frost on each of the thousands of coated pine needles. It amazed her to think that it was all naturally made and not the work of some ice goddess with an obsessive-compulsive disorder.

Hwalín's gruff voice broke Alma out of her train of thought.

"Hey Alm. Any idea where we might be? Every bloody tree looks the same as the last to me."

"Wait, what?!" Alma cried worryingly. "Shouldn't you know? You were the one that set the traps!"

Hwalín cackled. "Relax, I was just taking the piss. You’ve been mostly quiet this whole time and being that we're in the middle of nowhere… it was starting to creep me out!"

Alma sighed, the grip tightening on the rifle she was holding. "Right. I'm sorry. It's just been so hectic and I haven't really had time to process things. Oh, and I'm probably in a shitload of trouble, so I'm not even looking forward to going home. But the longer I wait, the worse it'll b—"

"Whoa! Ease the knees there, Ms. Sniper. I wasn't asking you to get all whiny on me." Hwalín slowed her steps. "We'll get you home right after breakfast, no worries!"

The elfwin huntress stopped and bent down in front of a very dangerous looking steel trap.

"If we ever actually find any, that is," she said dejectedly, looking over the untouched bait. Hwalín turned her head back towards Alma.

"Perhaps I should’ve asked before we left but, uh... Does anything actually live out here?"

"I don't usually go so far out in this direction, but I can't imagine any forest where something doesn't find a way to thrive..." Alma's voice trailed off. Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed a strange looking bump peeking out from the snow. She inched wordlessly towards what she was desperately hoping was something she could put in her mouth.

"Alma?" called Hwalín.

The hungry markswoman had suddenly stopped and was now staring down at something blanketed in dirty, white slush.

Hwalín trotted up behind her and slapped her hand down onto Alma's shoulder.

"What're you looking at, mate?" She searched the ground, finding nothing of note that could possibly warrant Alma’s creepy behavior.

"I-It's one of those things." Alma gulped. "Can't you see it? It's there! It’s dead!"

"A chthonae?!" Hwalín gasped. "Well, no bloody shit I can't see it! I can only hear the damn things and that's assuming they're alive."

Alma kicked the dead creature.

"Oh, is that like a thing all elfwin can do?"

"What? No, you bloody racist!"

Alma looked at her in shock before Hwalín let out another obnoxious cackle.

"Kidding. Nah, I'm just special, I guess."

Alma sighed. A habit was forming.

"Now that you mention it, Q did mention you had some sort of gift."

"Did she now?" Hwalín put a hand to her chin. She seemed reluctant to talk about it.

Alma wondered if it would have been better not to say anything.

"Yeah,” Hwalín finally spoke. “I guess she did mention to me that something was up with your eyes too."

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She seemed to search Alma's face for any hint of a similar reaction.

"Seems pretty useful, counting that we found this little bugger here."

Alma grimaced, recalling to mind something she heard earlier.

Hwalín let out a wry smile before clearing her throat.

"Hey now. I was just—I was joking about the whole eating them business. I didn't think we'd actually find one." Hwalín crossed her arm and placed a hand on her elbow, trying as hard as she could to not sound as embarrassed as she was feeling.

"Actually, Nia had expressed some interest in wanting to study one of these things up close." She looked down at the spot where the corpse was apparently lying. "She even spent a bit of time searching for one after you passed out yesterday."

"Well, I can see where her priorities lie at least." Alma sneered, trying her best to ignore some troubling implications.

There was still more that had been bothering her. The chthonae appeared a lot more corporeal than the last time she had seen them. Its weirdly pale and fleshy skin hanging off its quickly decaying body was causing Alma a bit of distress. Being that they were bug-like creatures, she had expected something with a carapace—some kind of hard shell or something. Its mouth was also agape and Alma noticed it had rows of oddly shaped teeth that seemed to travel inwards towards its body, going further than should be possible. Sprouting from its torso were six scythe-like appendages that looked extremely sharp. It had what appeared to be gills on the sides of its head, which she found odd considering there were no bodies of water for hundreds of miles. Perhaps they served some other purpose? What was most curious however, was its distinct lack of any sort of eyes. She reasoned that they must usually inhabit places that lack any semblance of light. The thought made Alma shudder.

Unexpectedly, it had also reminded her of the princess back home. The church and how it unfairly forces the royal family into a lifetime of blindness. Despite blaming it on the church, she felt a hint of remorse at the thought of Princess June never being able to see the world like the rest of her people.

Alma continued studying the creature, wondering whether it was a good idea to touch it or not. Thinking back to her recent scuffle with one of these beasts, if she had been able to see the thing's appearance properly at the time, she would have definitely lost her nerve and would instead now be some future animal's frozen treat.

Hwalín's head poked itself over Alma's shoulder.

"I wouldn't stare at that thing for too long, mate. You never know if it has some kind of hidden ability to control our minds or something. Even when dead." She stood up and took a step back. "Shit. Maybe it's only playing dead and getting ready to jump on your face!"

"So it can lay its eggs down my throat?" replied Alma in a dry tone, half-chuckling.

Hwalín's expression went deathly pale, causing Alma's eyes to roll into free fall.

"Thought you were the experienced hunter who's dealt with these kinds of things before," continued Alma. "Figured you for the expert here."

"I haven't actually been with Nia all that long, to be honest." The brash, Hecatian girl had been pinching her neck with her fingers, but quickly switched to fidgeting with her necklace when she noticed Alma looking at her. "I actually just kinda ran into her one day when she had first gotten here. I helped her get on her feet, so to speak, and I guess I just never stopped. She helped me... understand my ability. And now we've run into you."

She pulled a cigarette from a pack in her pocket and placed it in her mouth.

"Seems kinda like fate to me. Assuming that's not another one of her guises.” She offered one to Alma. “Sorry, did you want one?"

"No thanks.” Alma shook her head. “Tried one once, hated it. Anyway, I've kind of lost my appetite. Besides, these things have probably scared off any potential game long ago, so let's just get this lovely little pile back to camp and then we can finally get out of each other's hair."

"What have you got against us, Alma? We've been nothing but nice to you," said Hwalín, taking a slow drag off of her cigarette.

Alma ran her fingers through her soft, black hair, trying to find the right words.

"Believe it or not, the problem isn't you, Hwalín. Or Q. Any other day, I would have jumped at the chance to be a part of this crap. Belief in all the crazy, spooky metaphysics of our world is kind of my whole deal. I've heard so many myths and legends about the hinterlands outside our walls..." She looked over at the frozen corpse of the chthonae. Most of its flesh was a blueish gray color that she figured had probably been caused by the extreme cold. "It's just that... life was finally moving ahead for me, you know? I was all ready to give up these petty, childish dreams of wanting to hunt daemons and drag-hens and I was just really looking forward to the start of this whole new life for myself. Fighting the real bad guys, right? My home is my livelihood and I'd defend it at any cost."

Alma looked into Hwalín’s eyes and thought that maybe the elf could feel something relatable in what she was saying.

"Man,” continued Alma. “Here I thought maybe that woman was somehow influencing me into spilling my guts, but I guess whining is just one of my many attractive qualities."

The young girl made a half-hearted smile. "Sorry, I've bitched enough in front of both of you."

Hwalín stubbed out her cigarette in the snow and looked at Alma.

"You know drag-hens are real, don't you?"

Alma looked at her, mouth agape. She then began to laugh. She let out a laugh so hearty, it caused the pain in her body to double back—but she didn't care. Hwalín joined in laughing, letting out the same hoarse cackling that Alma wasn't sure was caused by either the elf’s constant smoking or just something she was naturally gifted with.