Hunters in the fog

Note: Image associated is from Ironage.media, specifically their writing prompt 'The Marquise'

Sharina, Reeve of the Shaded Lands, sat astride her companion of 8 years amidst what to the foreigner would be simple fog. Sharina and her kin, however, would see naught but a terrible omen of death, for the Shaded Lands are named not for an omnipresent fog but for its nigh-impenetrable forest. Indeed, its smallest members are wide enough to hide 5 men from view, even though they might stand abreast, and tall enough to cut clouds as they hang in the sky. Its ancient name was Messmilmeer, which these days means ‘Sky-Knife Sea.’

“What do you think of this chill fog, Daeneera?” she asked of her friend, the largest dire wolf born since the sire of her line, the legendary Kieschen, also called Wulpferd, on account of being the size of a smaller horse.

Daeneera gave a low whine and a short growl in response, indicating only her discomfort at being in a fog as a rule. Her kind, after all, fears the fog far more than Sharina’s, as it muddles their sense of smell, damping down all scents other than its own brand of putrid wetness, something too subtle to affect Sharina and her kin.

“I know; I don’t like being in it any more than you do. Chill’s one down to the bone.” She said as she pulled her Reeve’s cloak closer, its brilliant green dulling slightly to hide her better in the fog, though its magic could do nothing more to warm her. “If it weren’t for the chill to it, I’d have dismissed it as normal enough for the season. Come on; we should search for its cause if there is one.” She pressed her heels against Daereena, urging her forward slowly, cautious about moving through the thick soup, unsure of what may lurk within. As they did, some of the normal sounds of the forest could be heard, a tree shifting in the winds above, a branch falling, an owl awake too early, hooting in the distance. Absent, however, was much of the movement common to anywhere Daereena walked, as even the brave could find their courage lacking against her size, let alone the many smaller creatures of the forest. On the one hand, perhaps they just couldn’t see her and Sharina; on the other, it may be they knew something else stalked the fog, something more dangerous than a dire wolf and her rider. Something that the owl had risked his life to warn them of and had already paid the price for.

Sharina pulled gently at Daereena’s fur, stopping her as the hush shifted to an oppressive silence. Nothing moved. Not even the fog shifted as it was wont to do. It was as though the world had simply stopped. Much like her stalker’s heart and life all those centuries ago.