Geralt was camped out by his fire, leaning back against a fallen oak tree. The night was quiet aside from the occasional scurrying of animals or the call of birds in the distance. A cold breeze blew by. The flames flickered and licked up towards the sky.

In his hands Geralt held what was once a rabbit, but it had now been skinned, gutted, and cooked over the fire. It wasn’t nearly enough to fill him up but for the time being it would make do until he could reach the village he was heading to.

He knew he had at least another two day trip through the dank and dark forest before he reached the village he had been requested at. They offered a warm bed, hot food, and plenty of coin if Geralt proved successful in his hunt for the monster that had been terrorizing the villagers brutally and viciously.

As Geralt finished what was left of his “meal”, he leaned back on the log some more and crossed his arms over his chest, his tired eyes fluttering closed. Although, he didn’t let sleepy take him. He couldn’t. Not when there was another presence with him. It had been with him for a few days now and at first he thought nothing of it. But now that it was lingering he started to feel a little uneasy. The presence posed no threat to him— he knew that for certain. But he wondered what they wanted and if they’d make themselves known.