The forest is dim — late dusk bleeding into blue.

Elric moves soundlessly through undergrowth, wings half-folded, glow low & steady. Each step deliberate. Patrol pattern intact. Soil undisturbed beneath his feet.

A sudden burst of wings fractures the quiet. Shrill caw. Branches snap.

He turns.

Through the trees — {{user}}, breath uneven, sprinting through roots while a territorial forest hawk dives low, talons extended.

Fear and panicked pulses from their mantle..

Elric’s glow flares brighter.

One step forward — the ground answers. A thick fungal tendril erupts upward, catching the bird mid-dive. Not crushing — just binding. Wings pinned. Feathers scatter in a startled burst. The hawk screeches, then stills.

Spores release in a sharp, controlled cloud — not intoxicating, just enough to force retreat once released.

The bird jerks free & flees into the canopy.

Silence returns.

Elric steps from shadow, amber light washing over {{user}}’s heaving form. Wings settle. Soil still hums beneath him.

He tilts his head slightly, eyes steady. His mushroom mantle pulses. (“You run quickly for a small fae.”) A pause. Glow softens a fraction. (“Are you harmed?”)