<center><link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Arizonia" rel="stylesheet"><div style="width: 600px; background: url('http://i.imgur.com/G9BGwo4.png'); padding-bottom: 5px; padding-top: 5px; background-position: bottom; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-color: #673626; border-radius: 45px 0px 45px 0px; box-shadow: 0px 0px 20px #000000;"><div style="width: 590px; background: url('http://i.imgur.com/G9BGwo4.png'); padding-bottom: 10px; padding-top: 10px; background-position: bottom; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-color: #19161e; border-radius: 40px 0px 40px 0px;box-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #000000;"><div style="width: 530px; margin-bottom: 260px; margin-top: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; padding: 15px; background-color: #212227; opacity: 0.6; font-family: Times; color: #a1a6a9; font-size: 12px; line-height: 140%; text-align: justify; border-top: 5px solid #9b4b2c; border-bottom: 5px solid #9b4b2c; border-radius: 40px 0px;box-shadow: 0px 0px 20px #000;">The coverage of the forest had made sense at the time. She had counted on the dense wood and foliage to camouflage her, hide her from the thing that was stalking her. What she didn’t realize was that she had encroached on the creature’s domain. This was his playing field and he knew it well. She had made the wrong choice.
All she can hear is the sound of her own rattled breath, silver eyes darting around the forest and trying to make sense of her surroundings. Her vision had changed. She can barely make out the shadows of the trunks and she slowly starts to make her way deeper into the woods. She doesn’t know Taiga, the new world unfamiliar to her. This forest is dense and strange, and it holds a secret at it’s heart. A secret she was about to discover.
Her going is slow, having to check herself from falling over logs and roots. Slowly feeling her way around the trees, trying to be careful and not snap any twigs, trying not to bring unnecessary attention to herself. She has managed to catch her breath now but the darkness is smothering. The air was heavier here due to the density of leaves and brush. As much as she usually loves the forests, she wishes nothing more than to be out of this one.
As she leans against the broad rough bark of a tree trunk, trying to catch her breath, she suddenly freezes. Something is moving between the trees towards her left. The darkness is split by the large image, a mass of orange and yellows exposing it’s shape. It’s tall, very tall. She catches a glimpse of antlers, long arms that seem to spiral at the hands much like twisted roots of trees. There’s a dark red spot in what she assumes is it’s broad chest, it’s beating. It’s heart? It’s moving slowly before her, as if the trees themselves shift and move to make way for it. For a second she thinks she can hear the harsh caws of a ravens, it unnerves her when this world is so still and silent. All of sudden, in a swirl of smoke and shadows, it has disappeared. She thought she saw the warm orange bodies of ravens sweeping around it before it vanishes. She's not sure. Not sure of anything anymore.
She stares at the spot where it had once been in totally disbelief. The darkness has returned, only able to once again make out faint shadows of branches. What could that even be? She had never seen anything like it before. Her brain seems foggy, unable to process what was happening. Sluggish, unsure. Scared. Her own pulse was racing with the anticipation of the unknown. She can hear it in her ears. Shaking her head, trying to clear the cobwebs. She doesn’t see the mist, feathers, and shadows swirling behind her. Doesn’t see the Leshen that has formed from nowhere.
For this is the forest’s secret. A spirit of the woods, it’s guardian. Do not confuse it for the kind thoughtfulness of the fairies for this being was much darker then that. It manipulates shadows, holds sway over the forest creatures and plants. An ancient thing that had seen centuries pass from the sanctuary of it’s home. This one is not as old as others, it can’t command packs of wolves like it’s elders. It can however, call down the ravens. How lucky for her.
It snarls softly behind her, it’s twig like hands scratching against her hindquarters as mossy slime drips from the deer skull that makes up it’s head. It lands on her hipbone, dripping down slowly. She turns quickly, sees the monster looming over her. It’s a split second decision. Her body aches to fight but her mind has snapped back together in the seconds it’s spotted the Leshen (although she does not know it’s name). She quickly takes in it’s size, the long strong wooden arms. Remembers the way it lumbered through the trees, slow but deadly. She knows very quickly that she is grossly outmatched. In those few seconds it’s become obvious what she needs to do.
The ravens scream as they seem to explode from behind his skull, driving her back as she turns and flees. Her escape is messy and ungraceful. More than once she runs into branches and bushes, they grab at her flesh. Tearing and tangling into her mane. Her body slicing against rough bark as she grazes against trees. It’s pure luck that keeps her from running head on into them or perhaps it’s the Leshen, playing with it’s prey. Gasping for air, she knows it’s still behind her. Can hear the heaviness of it’s steps as the ground quivers beneath her hooves. She doesn’t see the Leshen dip down, doesn’t see it’s arms bury into the forest floor. Roots suddenly spring up before her, smashing her to the left. She falls into a large rotten log and lays there, struggling to breath. Her sides hurt and eventually she rolls herself back up, bruised and aching.
The Leshen is gone again. She knows it’s somewhere, not far. Maybe it’s toying with her, maybe she’s close to leaving it’s territory and no longer thinks her a threat. She’s not sure. But for now it’s simply lurking, somewhere she can’t see. As quietly as she can, she gets to her feet. There’s nothing to do but keep moving. Somehow, someway, she’s got to get out of here.
</div><div style="font-family: 'Arizonia', cursive; font-size: 70px; color: #acadaf; margin-bottom: 60px; padding-right: 380px;align:center; opacity: 0.9; text-shadow: 1px 1px 15px #000, 0 0 5px #000, 0 0 15px #000, 0 0 3px #fff;">Ciri</div></div></center>
Leshen Reference
All she can hear is the sound of her own rattled breath, silver eyes darting around the forest and trying to make sense of her surroundings. Her vision had changed. She can barely make out the shadows of the trunks and she slowly starts to make her way deeper into the woods. She doesn’t know Taiga, the new world unfamiliar to her. This forest is dense and strange, and it holds a secret at it’s heart. A secret she was about to discover.
Her going is slow, having to check herself from falling over logs and roots. Slowly feeling her way around the trees, trying to be careful and not snap any twigs, trying not to bring unnecessary attention to herself. She has managed to catch her breath now but the darkness is smothering. The air was heavier here due to the density of leaves and brush. As much as she usually loves the forests, she wishes nothing more than to be out of this one.
As she leans against the broad rough bark of a tree trunk, trying to catch her breath, she suddenly freezes. Something is moving between the trees towards her left. The darkness is split by the large image, a mass of orange and yellows exposing it’s shape. It’s tall, very tall. She catches a glimpse of antlers, long arms that seem to spiral at the hands much like twisted roots of trees. There’s a dark red spot in what she assumes is it’s broad chest, it’s beating. It’s heart? It’s moving slowly before her, as if the trees themselves shift and move to make way for it. For a second she thinks she can hear the harsh caws of a ravens, it unnerves her when this world is so still and silent. All of sudden, in a swirl of smoke and shadows, it has disappeared. She thought she saw the warm orange bodies of ravens sweeping around it before it vanishes. She's not sure. Not sure of anything anymore.
She stares at the spot where it had once been in totally disbelief. The darkness has returned, only able to once again make out faint shadows of branches. What could that even be? She had never seen anything like it before. Her brain seems foggy, unable to process what was happening. Sluggish, unsure. Scared. Her own pulse was racing with the anticipation of the unknown. She can hear it in her ears. Shaking her head, trying to clear the cobwebs. She doesn’t see the mist, feathers, and shadows swirling behind her. Doesn’t see the Leshen that has formed from nowhere.
For this is the forest’s secret. A spirit of the woods, it’s guardian. Do not confuse it for the kind thoughtfulness of the fairies for this being was much darker then that. It manipulates shadows, holds sway over the forest creatures and plants. An ancient thing that had seen centuries pass from the sanctuary of it’s home. This one is not as old as others, it can’t command packs of wolves like it’s elders. It can however, call down the ravens. How lucky for her.
It snarls softly behind her, it’s twig like hands scratching against her hindquarters as mossy slime drips from the deer skull that makes up it’s head. It lands on her hipbone, dripping down slowly. She turns quickly, sees the monster looming over her. It’s a split second decision. Her body aches to fight but her mind has snapped back together in the seconds it’s spotted the Leshen (although she does not know it’s name). She quickly takes in it’s size, the long strong wooden arms. Remembers the way it lumbered through the trees, slow but deadly. She knows very quickly that she is grossly outmatched. In those few seconds it’s become obvious what she needs to do.
The ravens scream as they seem to explode from behind his skull, driving her back as she turns and flees. Her escape is messy and ungraceful. More than once she runs into branches and bushes, they grab at her flesh. Tearing and tangling into her mane. Her body slicing against rough bark as she grazes against trees. It’s pure luck that keeps her from running head on into them or perhaps it’s the Leshen, playing with it’s prey. Gasping for air, she knows it’s still behind her. Can hear the heaviness of it’s steps as the ground quivers beneath her hooves. She doesn’t see the Leshen dip down, doesn’t see it’s arms bury into the forest floor. Roots suddenly spring up before her, smashing her to the left. She falls into a large rotten log and lays there, struggling to breath. Her sides hurt and eventually she rolls herself back up, bruised and aching.
The Leshen is gone again. She knows it’s somewhere, not far. Maybe it’s toying with her, maybe she’s close to leaving it’s territory and no longer thinks her a threat. She’s not sure. But for now it’s simply lurking, somewhere she can’t see. As quietly as she can, she gets to her feet. There’s nothing to do but keep moving. Somehow, someway, she’s got to get out of here.
</div><div style="font-family: 'Arizonia', cursive; font-size: 70px; color: #acadaf; margin-bottom: 60px; padding-right: 380px;align:center; opacity: 0.9; text-shadow: 1px 1px 15px #000, 0 0 5px #000, 0 0 15px #000, 0 0 3px #fff;">Ciri</div></div></center>
Leshen Reference