°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Trial of the Ancient °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
A tense silence filled the air, thickening, the heat and moisture that clinging to Yoa's hair. A few strands stuck to his forehead, and a bead of sweat trickled down the back of his nape. His heart grew louder in his ears as his eyes scanned his surroundings, paying attention to every single detail.
Yoa moved like smoke through the trees, each footfall calculated, each breath measured. The blade Atia had forged for Aiyana, Firstmark, rested at his hip. It gleamed softly in the dappled light that pierced the canopy, its weight a reminder of what he must do. His jaguar instincts had taken hold of him since stepping away from the guides and venturing deep through the dense forest.
