Rain was still on his knees when he felt something sharp jab into his side.
He'd spent the night in uncomfortable, dream-filled thoughts, his body regaining all of the base mana it needed to sustain itself, before equalling out and rejecting the dense mana of the forest.
Instinct and training overran his depression as he realized he was under attack, but when he grabbed what had poked him, it was to find a young, now terrified-looking demon holding a stick. It was impossible to tell much aside from that the demon was an imp, and that it had dark veins that glowed where they bulged, and a growth on their neck that was clearly mana corruption.
"What are you doing-" Rain asked, unable to get the last word out before the imp turned and ran.
The child didn't scream, which was more eerie somehow.
Rain pushed to a stand to find that those presences he sensed, the monsters or spirits, were still far. Why hadn't they come for him?
