Lukas, Weaver of Time, walked through the great expanse of tall grass that nearly covered him completely. His face was slightly sunken from lack of sleep and his eyes looked dead and emotionless. There was only a faint spark behind their beautiful emerald sheen.
Karve, Son of Shadows, walked with a steady confidence and silent steps. Among them, he was the only one who could see through the night itself. Through the shadows, he could sense the very edge of town and everything in between. His one remaining eye hid behind it a look of reluctance and assurance of his victory.
