The Bellators

4:1:4

 Whistling as it travels across the air, the breeze drives in a path generally straight colliding into a tree, powerful enough to cause the leaves to all begin rustling, the branches to wave and bend to the breeze's will. Many of the leaves do still hang on to their branches, for while the breeze is strong it isn't necessarily dangerous especially to a structure as solid, only bending to absorb the breeze's force but nowhere close to faltering.

At the other end of the tree there is one leaf however that does not cling strong enough, for once the breeze floods in the leaf snaps off of its branch and is picked up into the current, pulled from its home onto a course out of its control, off into the air alone to travel far from its tree, off into the distance as nearby stands the figure facing the mighty green mountains in the forestrous region, the figure's chainmail-like black cape waving in that very breeze same with its longish black hair perpendicular to the figure's orientation.

Ahead there are a handful of mountains as the area has sierras and ranges, although in the very center of the figure's attention there is one that stands well above all, a mountain that supersedes its neighbors by magnitudes and stands high up to the clouds, as while all other mountains have green tops mostly smooth like hills, this one has a white top with tall rocky cliffs as the only Peak to reach the heavens. Of course many of them are indeed tall in their own right, including the one the figure rests on as it stands by a cliff high above the distant ground where the trees below are only small textures, with some other mountains shorter than the lookout and others besides the greatest being taller.

There is no visible end of the forest that seems to cover just about every area of the region other than the snowy extremes of the peak, as while the area of the recluse mansions was definitely rural this area has no visible signs of civilization at all, instead appearing completely untouched by man. The view of the forest is further beautified by the sunset sunlight as the day grows to its end, as behind the giant peak stands the cyan supersun gradually descending, as though penetrated by the snowy peak violently and slowly being wounded ever more as it falls down its blade. It only more fits with the lack of refinement in the sun's circular shape as instead it bleeds unboundedly, blending the blue sky with its own tones, tones that emit a powerfully radiant cyan over the landscape that casts a dark shadow over the figure. The light pushes through the sparse and scattered clouds over the forest, no rain spared for the day.

As the figure watches the sun descend deeper into the colossal peak, the roars of the winds and breezes from such high altitude still rustling the leaves is mixed in with distant hums that do not appear natural, hums that gradually louden from behind, although is not paid any attention to by the figure.

On the other side of the lookout are many more mountains as the range expands in seemingly all directions, tall mountains interspersed with hills, all of them sprinkled heavily with trees that wave and rustle. With the lowering of the supersun, the cyan light starts to get pulled away from the sky and towards the horizon, darkening the heavens which begins to reveal dim dots above, although amongst the dots there is one significantly brighter, oddly rather than being white it's instead blue. That dot also appears to be moving towards, getting gradually larger at the very least from the perspective on the lookout, and as it grows larger the hum coming from its direction gets louder.

An intense gust of wind passes with the breeze, more wildly pushing against the silky black hairs on the head, a few individual strands poking out from the chaotic weather although doing its best to stay tidy. The head does not turn even with the hum's volume increase not showing any signs of deceleration, as instead its focus is planted on the mountain ahead and nothing else.

Sure the fields housing the estates were vast, but the mountain range is tremendously megalithic so much that from afar the figure is hardly visible other than being a black dot at the edge of the cliff of one of the shorter mountains, the cliff facing the direction of the drastically taller other mountain whose white peaks reach the clouds as it divides the sunlight in half. On the far other side the blue light travels with its hum mixed in with the current, moving past other mountains and hills in the direction of the peak.