Dawn crept in and cleared away the haze of night.
A hand broke out of a tree hollow, smashing the wood in its path. The hand gripped the side of the tree and a demon walked out of the hollow, dark, metallic wings reflecting the early sun.
Golden eyes looked up in interest and Mark whistled.
He was perched atop a black-leaved tree at the bottom of an incredibly massive cliff. And spreading his Soul Sense out cautiously, he could sense some demons around. Already bustling around with the arrival of morning.
Demonlings. A little red-skinned Demon scuttled around beneath his tree, tailing another grey-skinned demon with obvious malevolent intent.
Mark couldn't help but smile at the sight.
Some months ago, he had been that weak, too.
He took a calm breath of the savage wilderness. Maybe, months or years from now, his current self and problems would also just be an old memory. If he could survive all the troubles in the first place that is.
