Chapter Six: Departure

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Nayuna

She's been traveling for many days, yet determination keeps her moving, her amber eyes straight ahead towards her destination.
Her mind is focused only on what lies ahead. Some part of her believes that her sibling is close by. The small part is by instinct, but it is one that she trusts.

Nayuna makes her way through the Sasgen Woods, her form magically disguised as an elderly vagabond woman. A tattered brown cloak covers her worn dress, a rough and knotted cane in one withered hand for effect. Her black hair has changed to iron gray and is scraggly, hanging past magically stooped shoulders, the cowl of her cloak pulled low over her head.

Silence befalls her as she walks, the sound being her near silent footsteps, her pace slow and deliberate. The wind whistles; an eerie sound to those save her. Her hooded head is bowed, her hair falling around her face. No birds sing, no animals rustle in the undergrowth. It is as if the forest has gone silent from some unseen and terrible event.

Frowning, her wrinkled brow furrowing with slight confusion and a bit of concern, Nayuna looks around, wondering about the cause of the forest's silence. Has something happened here?

Whatever it was, it was enough to maintain a complete silence, she thinks. Even the insects are making not a sound, let alone the birds and animals.

Taking a few more steps, she looks around, a frown on her wizened face, trying to figure out what it is that is going on. Something has happened here. Something terrible.

She continues on, looking around every so often. Her foot then steps on something, with a wet and sickening crunch.

She looks down, lifting her foot up. A thoughtful frown crossing on towards disgust is on her face as she regards the item. A bloody dismembered hand lies underneath her foot, partially covered by bloodstained grass and dirt.

Kneeling down, she gingerly picks up the severed limb, that look of disgust becoming more pronounced as she examines it, turning it over in her hands. Sticky blood coats her palm and fingers, a grimace coming out of her as she handles the limb. The severed hand is small with delicate fingers and neatly trimmed nails, but with a bit of dirt underneath. Callouses crisscross the palm and fingers. A strip of bone sticks out from under the wrist, the end broken into long white splinters. Dried blood coat the splinters. Bits of skin hangs off the bony wrist.

Nayuna instantly recognizes the gruesome and macabre work. Her face is grim, yet she is satisfied with what she is thinking.

Koldreds.

That would explain the cause of the forest's silence, she thinks, still cradling the dismembered hand.

But it doesn't really explain why one is here though, does it? Other than the fact that it found a victim and did what it does best.

She can't help but grimace briefly, but is short-lived at that. She knows all too well what would happen if anyone crosses paths with a Koldred. Whether it is by fate or otherwise.

As that thought comes, she smells the familiar discernable foul stench wafting towards her. She wrinkles her nose, grimacing at the terrible but undeniable odor; An odor that smells like rotting meat and blood.

Though the Koldreds have their uses for pursuing and ruthless assassinations, and of her years of close association with the macabre creatures, she still can't stand the stench that accompanies them whenever they go. But in truth, she's almost gotten used to it.

Almost.

Nodding grimly, for she realizes that she is close, she puts the dismembered hand back on the ground. She wipes her hand on her cloak, cleaning her hand of dirt and blood, not caring if the fabric is getting stained.

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