The peace of the forest was abruptly shattered as a doe came crashing through the brush, silvered for a moment by the white moon hanging heavily in the sky as she fled. She was running flat out, her flanks panting in terror and she turned swiftly to follow a creek. Blood was dripping from her left side.

Moments after the doe passed through the clearing, her pursuer was seen. Zenith was looking the worse for wear. His clothes were torn in several places after having gotten caught on the brush during his chase. Seeing where the deer had fled, he stopped and cursed fervently under his breath. It had taken him what felt like forever to actually get close to the animal, only to have it flinch away from him just as he moved to make the kill. And now it was gone, leaving nothing but a trail of sweet smelling blood, red eyes flickering where the drops had fallen.

Swearing again, he wiped the blade clean with his fingers and licked the excess off, savoring the gamey taste of the animal's blood before swallowing. Wistfully he wished for a bow, though he had little talent in archery. Hunting would be all the easier with one. It would be a long night if he did not find some source of blood to sustain himself with. The road through the forest was long, and not traveled often, so there were not even any roadside bandits or merchants on which to feed.

Frustrated, Zenith gave up pursuit of the doe and moved back to the road, hoping to come across some form of civilization soon.