Jaegryn stalked between the massive trees, slipping in and out of shadows that were so deep, so dark, that they seemed to swallow up what little moonlight there was. A cold wind rushed through the trees, causing their tops to scrape against the heaven's above. A high pitched hoot sending a flock of black shapes darting away from a nearby tree. Jaegryn paused, pressing himself against the rough tree bark and breathed deep.

The cocktail of the woodlands swirled within him. A mixture of the vibrant plants, the heady sweet perfume of foliage, pines and fungal decay. It's the smell of the ancient. The primal. Better than any incenses. Better than anything man could ever make.

Pressing forward, he made his way deeper into the wilds. Only the soft crunching of the forest floor, a smooth intertwining tapestry of pine needles and dried leaves, accompanied him. He stopped at the edge of a clearing. There in its center was a black boulder. Dull streaks of minerals shimmered in the pale solon moonlight.

This wasn't just a boulder.

It was a marker. The throne of some primordial force that had once laid claim to this lands. Now it sat empty The edges of the peak had been worn smooth by the quiet passing of time, yet its pointed tip still remained razor sharp, like a single bony finger thrusting imperiously towards the heavens.

He hesitated at the edge of the clearing. His insides churned and he stepped back. There were things even he would not hunt. Godslayers. Binders. They were madness incarnate. Monsters he hunter stood. They bled. They died. But gods and spirits?

Madness.

Instead he chose to skirt around the clearing. Paying its sacredness the respect it was due. He was of the soft stillness that had fallen over the place. Not one that imposed itself upon the world but rather upon him. A bird squawk, the noise piercing the silence as the echo raced between the trees. His own breaths, by comparison, were swallowed up by the forest. Only the faint rustling and chirping of the birds and the orchestral song of cicadas and frogs could speak here. Each sound was held, inspected and judged by the silent sentinels that towered over them.

This was a place for them.

Not for him.

And yet could there ever be a place for something like himself? A longing stirred within him, a desire for these strange and alien wilds, these untamed lands that surrounded him. It was a feeling, buried deep within him, a raw uncut gem that longed to get lost within these worlds and never return. Yet this wasn't his domain.

His den laid within the concrete and iron jungles of civilization. The crude constructions of those who'd clawed their way from their primal ancestral home only to then lay siege to it. Bit by bit their war of fire and smog would be won, yet avarice, once tasted, was found to be to fine a wine to be laid down. Their eyes, and his destiny, would be caught somewhere in the midst of a crusade to bring order to the rest of the wilds scattered across the galaxy.

For now he shouldered the burden and carried on. He needed to focus. He was on a hunt after all. He continued to stalk forward for sometime. Eventually he caught sight of a disturbances, a broken limb at chest height, the smashed remains of moss upon a thick wide root. He followed them for some time. Losing himself in the pursuit.

Then all at once he stopped. Frozen in mid step. He placed his boot down, careful to smother any sound he would have otherwise made. He'd been stealthy, far more stealthy than any human had a right to be. He sniffed the air. The wind shifted, bringing with it the pungent odor of sweat and fear. The huffed it out. He'd found the son.

For a long moment he remained where he was, concealed within the shadow of a tree, gazing out searching for the telltale sign of the man he now knew was out there.

At last he spotted a silhouette moving through the trees. The movements were jagged, rough but not without a grace developed from long stretches of time out in the wilderness. Even in the low moonlight, Jaegryn could make out his features. His wild mane of hair and tattered cloths. He'd been reckless. Ambling around.

"Eza!"

Jaegryn growled tearing himself away from the shadows.

"Quiet."

His demand was carried on the wind and caused the man to flinch as though he were struck. He turned to see Jaegryn and let out a shout. Jaegryn's jaw clenched. The man stumbled back. Jaegryn knew that he'd been baring his teeth. You have to act civil, he told himself. He marched forward, careful to scan his surrounded as he closed in on the man.

"The jaegryn." The man sputtered, "I forgotten you were here. What brings you out here so late."

"You."

"My mother then?"

So this is Yavik. Jaegryn stood motionless and then realized he was once more unnerving the young man before him.

"I am... you may call me Jaegryn."

"I thought that was the name of your order?"

"It is."

A deep line of concentration creased Yavik's forehead.

His face was set with a look he seemed comfortable wearing. From the lines upon his face Jaegryn would bet he was no stranger to that expression. Many had the same expression when he told them what to call him.

To them names were sacred. They made up the person. To him it was a memory of a time when he'd been happy. When he'd been naive and though that happy endings were the only way to end a story. He'd abandoned his name the day they'd given up searching for her. Left it there in the soft earth at the edge of the forest where they'd played and later met in secret.

He blinked, turning away from Yavik. He gazed up into the small patch of stars that struggled to be seen through the dense canopy.

Names were complicated, carrying one's history with them. Instead he chose a title. It was a way of reducing himself, getting rid of all that useless nuance. It allowed him to become focus. To become something he was not. Now he wore that title as a way of concealing what he was.

"I need your help."

Jaegryn's eyes flicked to the side where he eyed the young man. There was a deep urgency in his voice. A wavering desperation that cut to the core of Jaegryn's being.

"Take me to her camp."

He shook his head.

"She's not there."

"Take me there."

Yavik's nerves boiled over. Jaegryn could see it in the trembling of his shoulders. Yet when Jaegryn turned to face him the anger that had welled up, working itself into a frenzied shout, died in his throat. Instead he nodded his head and pointed before walking in the direction he'd indicated.

The two of them forged through the thicket of trees, navigating their way to the camp. Pale silver moonlight spilled like water down the cliff face that rose up in the distance. They stepped out from the forest and onto the hard rocky terrain. Yavik jogged over, pointing toward a small broken campfire. Jaegryn followed, though at his own pace, his eyes continuing to scan the edge of the tree line that surrounded them.

The camp was a disaster. The fire pit was dark and empty, the atmosphere filled with the ghostly reminders of the smoke and cinders that had once danced in the air. A blankets lay in tatters on the ground. Shirt caught by an errant gust of wind and was snagged on a nearby bush. Everything pointed to a sudden escape.

"See I told you."

Jaegryn ignored the younger man. He circled the camp, sniffing the air, eyeing the various disturbances like a detective at a crime scene. He inhaled again, searching for another hint of where she'd gone. He knelt down and picked up one of the blankets. He held it up to his face and inhaled. He held the scent in his mouth. There was a distinct aroma of flowers with the hint of copper. He dropped the blanket. He shifted from one foot to the other, rocks crunching beneath his feet he was too deep in thought to notice. She ran off to the west. He told himself, taking a step forward and inhaled. He could smell her now, though it was faint. Fear followed her. She was running from something.

He gazed down the edge of the cliff face where she'd run. He turned his back to her path and fixed his eyes upon the tree line. Marching over, he set to work inspecting the area. As he approached a scent began to fill the air before him. He was a dozen paces away from the camp now and with each step it became stronger and stronger like an thick unseen fog.

"What's that smell?"

Jaegryn grunted. Even the human could smell it. He sniffed the air, searching the area in an attempt to find its source. He could see gouges in the ground where class had torn the grass up and left them in small heaps. He slowed his approach, not knowing what was out there. His eyes shifted to the ground then shot to the tree tops searching for whatever it was that spooked her.

Then he found it. A stain upon a tree several meters inside the tree line. He knelt down and inspected it.

"What are you-"

Yavik was cut off my a sharp look from Jaegryn. Continuing his search around the tree Jaegryn's diligence was reward with a partial footprint next to a large tree. It looked to be the left foot from the way one side curved. Standing he positioned himself just behind the print. He gazed at the camp. If he leaned to the side he could see the camp while most of his body remained hidden.

"The creature was here."

The blood drained from Yavik's face and a slight tremble took hold. His eyes became glass as his mouth parted slightly.

"It didn't get here."

At least not here, he thought to himself.

"We need to go west. Is there any place in that direction she would have gone?"

"There are some caves up that way."

Without another word Jaegryn marched out from the tree line, past the camp and towards, what he hoped, was the still living Eza.