The damp air clung to Naga like a second skin as he moved, a silent ripple through the dense undergrowth of the Misty Range. He stopped at the edge of a small clearing, and knelt, running a scaled finger along a faint drag mark in the mud. He heard the snap of a twig. Not the wind. Not an animal. Purposeful. Naga didn't turn. "Show yourself." His voice was a low, guttural hiss, barely audible above the rustle of leaves.
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