"The twin forests were like a large backyard for the villagers. The dense canopies sheltered many animals, the streams supplied water, and the trees provided wood for fires and building homes. Roan, like many others, had ventured into its embrace countless times, drawing from its bountiful resources. This morning, The dew weighed down the golden crops, making them bend softly in the breeze. Roan, in tune with nature, sensed the world's rhythm around him as he ventured deeper into the forest on a rare morning off. His boots, worn from years of traversing both fields and forests, made barely a whisper as they crunched against the forest floor.
Should've told Lynna 'bout what I found, Roan mused, scratching at the stubble on his chin, but I reckon it'd be best if I had somethin' solid to show 'er. Don't want to get her riled up over nothin'. Besides, those city folks, they're used to more concrete stuff, not just old village tales.
The shadows deepened as he ventured further, the playful chirping of birds replaced by the eerie calls of creatures hidden in the canopy above. Branches and leaves concealed the path, but Roan's sharp eyes caught on the smallest of details: a smear of mud here, a broken twig there. Someone or something had passed this way recently.
The journey led him to a clearing. At its center stood an altar, ancient and worn, with symbols that seemed familiar yet foreign. Roan shivered. 'What in Steia's name!' he exclaimed. He noticed signs of regular use around the altar, like candle wax drippings, footprints, and small carved idols. Someone had been frequenting this spot, conducting rituals that the village's old folks would've wagged their fingers at.
Taking a deep breath, Roan decided to take a closer look. As he extended his hand to touch one of the carved symbols, a violent noise echoed behind him, causing his heart to lurch. Whipping around, he saw nothing but the rustling leaves.
After taking a closer look he spotted a disturbed patch of earth and some displaced leaves. It looked like something had fallen from above. Slowly lifting his gaze upward, trying to trace the origin, a fleeting shadow in the trees caught his eye. Well, I'll be..., he whispered, rubbing his eyes. It looked like the silhouette of a man for a second, but by the time he blinked, nothing was there.
Damn these old woods, he muttered, rubbing his eyes, Got me hearin' and seein' things. When did I become such a jumpy old coot?
He wondered how he, a grown adult who'd faced his fair share of life's challenges, started to feel the prickles of fear in these familiar woods. A chill seemed to creep up his spine, unbidden, as beads of sweat formed on his brow despite the coolness of the forest shade.
His thoughts swirled, but one thing was clear: he needed to get back to the village, and fast.
With determined steps, Roan retraced his path, the feeling of unease only lifting once the familiar sight of the village appeared on the horizon. Whatever was unfolding in the forest, Roan knew he'd need to tread carefully. And more than ever, he felt the importance of keeping Lynna in the loop.