A wave of unease passes gently over his heart and Aslon stops breathing for a moment. [i]'I don't know what just happened, but the wood is not happy about it'[/i] he thinks, pulling in another lung full of putrid air. Glancing back down at the pack of beasts growling and snapping at him the feeling of uneasy intensifies as he watches them pause. Their ears, those that have them, perk up as if they hear something and much to his chargin they proceed to back away from the tree. [i]'Oh yes, this can not be good. I didn't hear anything, so what they heard must not be something meant for living ears to hear'[/i] Gritting his teeth slightly he fights the urge to just jump down from the tree and start running back to his lands. [i]'That's what that bastard expects. It’s the most logical action to take. But I'm not going to give up just yet. My people need to know what's going on here. They need me to be successful. And I will be'[/i]

With his confidence bolstered by his internal pep talk Aslon closes his eyes, pressing one hand to the trunk of the dead tree. He listens to the wind, the earth, and takes what little he can from the once living flora. After several silent moments his eyes snap open, his mind sharp and focused on his task. Dropping down a couple branches he walks along one of the thicker limbs until he's within jumping distance of the nearest tree. “Time to fly.” he murmurs and in a flash he takes off. With a single leap he lands in the middle of the branch he was aiming for. The dead wood bends dangerously but before it can snap he darts down it to the base and on to another branch. Like a squirrel he rushes through the treetops, never once setting foot on the earth as he moves further and further into the necromancer's territory.

He moves so fast that the wind whips across his face, making him blink rapidly when his footing is secure to keep them from tearing up. [i]'According to the history books, if I just keep the sun on my back while I travel after mid day, I should keep moving towards the center of the wood. The stories say that that's where the foul thing resides'[/i] Pausing at the trunk of a tall tree with thick branches he leans in close against the smooth bark and catches his breath. The thrill of the acrobatics mingled with the danger of the quest mingles together to sap his stamina. His eyes trail upward past the branches and he holds his breath for a moment as his eyes discern a shape moving high above the treetops. [i]'A bird?'[/i] he wonders, but shrugs it off as the beast turns away before coming close enough to spot him. [i]'It has to work for him. There are no living animals that dare enter this forest any more, and I've never seen one fly over it either'[/i]

Just as he exhales his breath is caught again as his sharp ears pick up the sound of hoof beats in the distance. Pressing his palms to the tree trunk he casts his senses out through it's roots and manages discern that it's a single rider alone. A slow smile creeps across his lips as his eyes open and he gets a wicked idea. [i]'Well at least I can piss the soul sucker off a bit I suppose. That is if he gives a damn about his animals'[/i] And with a rather juvenile, but irresistible idea in mind, Aslon pinpoints the horse and rider's location with his keen eyes and ears and takes off through the branches at top speed.

When he comes upon the rider he doesn't slow, instead he launches himself full force at the thing in the saddle, landing a hard kick to it's site that propels it off the horse and into the nearest tree. Aslon feels bones break as his kick connects and shudders. His hand snaps out as he passes over the saddle and with a slightly painful jerk to his shoulder he grabs the edge of the leather and swings himself around in a graceful arc, landing astride the beast gently. Out of the corner of his eye Aslon catches sight of the undead creature trying to get to it's feet with a few broken vertebra. Playing his years of practice, masterful skills, and a bit of magic he manages to keep the horse from bolting and instead it takes off at a steady pace, turning with pressure from the elf's knees to put the sun behind them.

After a few minutes of travel he reaches around to get a hold of the horse's reigns and pulls the beast to a stop. [i]'Well, I'm a little more mobile now, but if I keep heading in this way, I'm sure to run across more of these guys. I gotta think'[/i] Aslon's ears perk up as the sound of running water nearby catches his attention. Turning the horse towards the sound he pushes it into a slow walk and moments later a small stream comes into view. The pitch black steed needs no encouragement and walks right up to the water, dropping it's head to drink. [i]'Must be safe if she's drinking'[/i] he surmises and gets down carefully. Keeping one hand on the reigns he scoops up a few handfuls of the clear liquid. The cool water soothes his throat and when he has his fill he pulls out his wine skin, dipping it in the spring to re-fill it and cool it down. Once it's full he reaches up and rubs his sore shoulder with his damp, chilled hand. The cold feels good.