Ravendoll, 1831-
In the cold night, the forest was without sounds. As if magic had cast on the forest floor, there was no sound of birds, and the owls had stopped hooting. The only sound that came was the rustling and gasps of a woman's breaths.
She knew she had to be silent for the people who chased her had sharp hearings, but she could not. The woman had dashed through the forest. The branches of the tree were no less than a needle to her skin, scraping, and grazing her skin for blood to cover her exposed arm and her face.
Her breathing labored as she had never run like this before. She had never been chased before, and now she is running to save her life. From the people who chased her.
When she met the men earlier, who was currently chasing her, she saw their knives. It gleamed brightly as if threatening her life where the surface looked like a mirror to show her golden spec eye and black hair.
