The adrenaline pushed you from the patchy light until, again, you tumbled through the dark. Strangely enough, the Tryst kept a respectful distance. Once you realized this though, your body shuddered. What little energy you has was flooding out, and the pain in your ankle skittered up your leg with each footfall.

Still, that clearing never felt far enough. Staggering, limping, you struggled onward.

Just as your limbs threatened to seize up, a dull red glow escaped from behind the tangle of branches and caught your eye. You pulled together what power had not dribbled out of you and stumbled past the dividing foliage. You hoped it was an exit and surged forward. Immediately, something dense collided with your already wobbly legs.

Chin to the dirt, you waited; for what, you did not know, but the light swam in hypnotizing circles before your eyes, stirring up a queasiness. You remembered the willow wisps and sucked in a panicked breath. The bitter souls of countless victims drifted through the Tryst, according to legend, luring other unfortunate wanderers into their ghostly ranks. It would be just your luck to be spirited away by one of those phantoms. However, no weeps or wails touched your ears, only a familiar grunt.

"Is that how you always say 'hi'?"

You rolled onto your back in time to see the dense something move. An intimidating form rose from just beyond the light's reach, a waking giant stretching to its full height. Keen eyes snatched some of the blood-red glow, deepening their crimson hue. These pinpoints shone from the murk with a striking mixture of sharpness and satisfaction. Was it smugness?

You crawled backwards instinctually. Fighting to prevent your lips from quivering, a half-question managed to jump from your jumbled thoughts.

"You're in the Tryst..." You glanced at the healthy flames dancing in behind you. "And you were able to make a fire."

A face popped into view. It belonged to a grinning young man, hovering somewhere in his twenties. He had a rush of silvery locks that hung around his appearing shoulders. The tilt of his head betrayed a boredom, and his smile, the mischievous nature to entice it. No matter how hard you checked, his true intentions remained hidden behind glinting teeth. How wolfish they were...

"It's really not a big deal. I've been in worse places than this." He shrugged. "Still, I would appreciate it if you would wander less. Tsch. It's like you've never been dumped in a field before." He emerged fully from the shadows, and you could see much more of him than you wanted. The loud, leather outfit squeezing against his body into exposed the majority of it.

You gasped and scooted further away, not out of embarrassment but fear. On his right side, branded into the flesh was a tattoo: the mark of the fox.

"And," he continued, "you managed to lose your splint. Nice."

How much does this creep know?!

An tingling panic crept up your throat with a scream chasing after it. Before the sound could leave your lips, the stranger shot towards you and pressed a firm hand to your mouth.

"I don't think so!" he sang, "unless you feel like being swarmed by uglies, screaming is a bad idea." He then paused a moment, continuing with his pointed grin, "but a fight would make this mission a little less boooring." He drew out the last word with a groan.

You squinted at his studded jacket cuff. Yeah, wouldn't want to attract attention.

The man, seeing that you were not uncontrollably screeching, slipped his hand from your mouth and slumped down in front of the fire. He rested his head up against one of the now tame trees and shut those peculiar eyes.

Before you could think, your bow was in your hands, ready and aimed. "Who are you?" You kept your voice more level this time.

Without even bothering to open his eyes, he replied, "I'm the guy whose nap you ruined."

You could feel a pout tugging at your features, though you did your best to smooth over your emotions. "Who really are you? You know too much to be just some wanderer, so spill."

At this the man gave you the courtesy of lazily lifting one of this eyelids and training his unnerving gaze on you. Your hope that the bow would coax out some information vanished, stolen by those burning crimson points.

You prayed for your arms to be still, but the bow refused to steady. Head to toe, your body betrayed you through a violent trembling, but you would not allow it to warp your determined expression.

"Heh, I like your spirit, lady, but I'll be taking this." The stranger rolled onto his heels, and in one fluid motion, he pounced.

You didn't even see the arrow. One moment the man was flying at you, the next he was staggering backwards with a red plume sprouting out his chest. Then there was silence.

I- I killed him. Oh, goddesses, I killed him!

Before another thought could cross your mind, the bow was snatched from your hands and the stranger leaned close. "Now let's just play nice." Each word touched your tingling skin with a puff of air.

You could only gape. No matter how many times you opened and closed your mouth, nothing would come out. 

He moved away, snapped the arrow off, and wiped the blood trailing down his chin. "I'll start. The name's Undead Bandit Ban" he coughed a ghastly, bloodied cough, "And before you ask, I'm already taken."