[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/3RpBrZ2.png[/img][/center]

As the night descends and the unlikely hunting party settles down amid the stones, a lull falls over the Cullis Woods. For now, there is no more sound than the soft whisper of an uneasy evening breeze through the grass, and whatever conversation might be found around a makeshift firepit.

The sky turns from purple to navy to black as coal, studded here and there with scatterings of stars where they peek through the clouds. All is as calm as any other night.

A branch snaps, and some small creature (a squirrel, or a mouse) gives a short, muffled squeak of distress as its brief life is made briefer. This time, there's a sinister edge to the silence that wasn't there before.

Those used to staying alert might find the hairs on the nape of their neck standing on end.

The treeline is dark and inscrutable. Something is watching silently from the woods.