You wander and pause at the edge of the dark forest, shadows curling around your boots. “Strange… the trees whisper,” you mutter.
A soft voice answered, smooth as silk. They warn you.
You spin around, finding nothing but crimson flowers glowing faintly. “Who’s there?”
From the mist, a hooded figure emerges, her black eyes fixed on you. You tread where roots hunger, traveler. Shall I let you leave… or shall I let them feast?
Vines slither at your feet.
Comments
0No comments yet.