Some things never die in a person, but love of the forest is not one of them. It is most definitely on that should have never died, but it did, and for that some people had become less that what they were at the beginning. A gentle rustle in the branches as the wind whispered through the overhanging boughs, or the faint crackling sound of a chipmunk as it enjoyed some kind of natural treat... the forest was alive, but hardly a soul in the universe seemed to notice anymore, not for a long enough time to make it seem too long ago. Tingling sensations as the clean, pure, and almost entirely new and unpolluted air reaches the nostrils keys an automated response in one, if not all, beings, and that is the predator. A predator can sense peace, and the need to disturb it. That, in itself, is a danger, but the appeal of peaceful scent also weakens the prey, lulling them into security. Today was a day for the predators, not the prey.

The rattle of steel mesh and the neigh's of a mount chorused loudly in the dense foliage as a lone human being tried in vain to coax his animal between the trees and bushes, the horse having sensed what the master could neither known nor guessed. Danger was within the trees, some kind of predator lurking beneath the green and waiting to carve a swath of red, but no horse can speak to an ordinary human being, no warning could be given, and Kichaa Mesoa's horse Evelynna was not an exception in any sense of the word. Giving up, the swordsman dismounted and patted the horse down in an effort to calm the stubborn filly down a bit; however, she was having none of that, and simply subsided into an uneasy stance, staring at something with her ears up, waiting for a sound.

"What is it," Kichaa muttered under his breath, trying to peek around the trees to see just what it was that had startled his girl so much. Then, he saw what she heard, smelled, and verily knew about the entire time he was trying to make her walk directly into it. There was a human in the path Kichaa'd been trying to take, and he wasn't moving. Something about him seemed wrong, like he didn't belong in the forest as he was. Something about him made the warrior, after a brief glance at his horse, draw the blade at his side and begin inching forward through the trees, crouching low to the ground and trying to remain as invisible as he could without just running away. Whatever that human was doing in the forest, alone and armed, he was looking at something. Kichaa followed his line of sight and looked up. There was a being in the trees, though the exact shape seemed to shapeshift through the distorting tree branches, and that being was in danger... from what, the swordsman couldn't tell, but the feeling lingered.

Stop, don't move, he told the creature mentally, hoping to all the gods he could think of that whoever was in that tree knew better than to fight immediately. The other being had caught Kichaa's sound. He looked. Their eyes didn't meet, but something told the prey that the hunter had found him, and the sudden urge to run tingled up the prey's spine. Almost unable to control himself, Kichaa did the only thing he could do without imploding. He stood up and walked forward, the sword in his hand ready, though he counted on the fact that this was a reasonable being.

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[Graphics by Me.]

[The signature links to Aleksandr Sokoll.]
["I believe in sleeping." ~ Bruce Lee]