As Asher and Lysandra made to leave the blighted valley, the air suddenly rippled with a sinister hiss, halting them mid-stride.
*Hiss….Hisss…..*
The hissing multiplied, surrounding them with a chilling serenade of malice.
Asher turned, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the dark, dense fog that seemed to thicken with every passing moment, "I thought there could only be one mature Dreadspine Serpent per generation."
"These are its minions," Lysandra responded, her voice laced with urgency, "They aren't as strong, but their confidence to surround us means the Dreadspine Serpent has marked us already as its prey. We have to leave now!"
As they pivoted to flee, a dark purple mist, eerie and thick, began to envelop the space above them.
