Douma continues walking through the forest, his breath visible from the cold temperature, his gold fans resting on his shoulders. He listens for any noise, he can hear nothing but the soft blow of the wind and his own footsteps. He continues to walk farther and deeper into the forest, his sharp eyes scanning the area

“Come on... Come out already...”

Douma mumbled to himself, his fans tapping against his shoulder impatiently waiting for something to happen