The White Hare

Tracking the Dead

Surrounded by a sea of trees and snow a lone traveler dressed in a large thick coat and clutching a walking stick stumbles through the snow. Forcing his way up the covered road with the staff in hand the older figure jabs at the snow in front of him to make sure there's nothing hidden in front of him as he pushes forward. The last thing he needed out here was a twisted ankle. Gods forbid a broken leg out here at this time of year. Especially in the middle of the night. He was so close to the city that he could-

A deep crunch of snow in the distance makes him freeze and scramble for the lantern. Snuffing out the light, he dives down to the side of the road where there is a light dip in the untouched snow. The man silently thanks the gods for the decent ditch. Throwing himself down, the traveler uses his hands and his stick to try and dig far enough away from the place he jumped down without disturbing the top snow. Lying low he keeps his body close to the ground and slows his breathing as much as he can.

The sound of creaking tree limbs and the crunch of snow on the road makes him shutter just as much as the bitter cold. Another movement coming from the forest on the other side of the road where he heard the first disturbance draws closer as he struggles to quiet his hammering heart. Seconds drag on. Sweat builds on his brow as he grips his walking stick with white knuckles.

A pair of cold withered hands seize him by his shoulders and drag him out of the snow kicking and yelling for help. A decrepit wrinkled face stares at him while slowly opening its mouth. A glow in the back of it's throat building. The monster lets out a deep wheezing inhale that makes the man kick and fight all the harder but to no avail. A second pair of hands grabs him by his head and forces him to look down into the mouth of the monster holding him up.

Small wisps of white come out of his mouth and face. The strands of qi get dragged down into the mouth of the undead holding him. His words fail him as his struggle weakens. He can't breathe. It's like the air is being directly sucked out of his lungs and won't let him catch another breath. The edges of his vision start to darken. His staff falling from his grip and bouncing away with a hard clack against the frozen ground as his final prayer is brought to mind. The message to the gods would be for his family to not find him on the side of the road like this. Have a guard or a traveler find him first so he can be buried and a letter given to them instead.

A white blur vaults out of the silent forest and beheads the creature holding him by his shoulders. His eyes snap open when both monsters release him and let him drop to the ground. Inhaling deeply the man scrambles away as his lungs burn from a lack of oxygen and his very soul screams in agony from having his remaining life clawed at. Watching as the white blur pounces on top of the second monster he stares in awe.

Another figure comes out of the forest with glowing patches from its neck, chest, some along the arms and- oh dear gods that's a hellhound. One with glowing eyes that pierce right through his soul. He jumps at a third figure hopping down from the trees and landing directly next to him. Yelling in fear he tries to scramble away and protect his face with his arms.

"Hey, are you alright?" Comes a soft feminine voice. Looking up from his arms he finds a young beautiful woman looking down at him.

"An angel has come to take me away at last." The older man clasps his hands together. A tear falling from his cheek as he speaks. "I only ask that you send a good omen to my children and grandchildren that their Pop pop is in a better place now."

The angel smiles and shakes her head. "I'm sure you can tell them that yourself sir. You're not dead."

"... huh?" That can't be. After the hellhound came through it means that it's curtains for him. Rubbing his eyes a bit he gets a better look at her after a second glance. Her pointed ears and fair features tell him she is no angel at all but a wood elf. "Oh thank Terra you and your companions saved me!" Looking over at said companions he gulps as he watches a harefolk tying up one of the monsters that tried to kill him. A massive hellhound looking down at the white furred creature and speaking in a tongue the man doesn't understand.