~**(Third Person)**~
The forest was unnaturally quiet.
Not the kind of quiet that followed peace—but the kind that screamed of something lurking. Something wrong.
Draven moved through the undergrowth with sharp, soundless steps, his eyes scanning the shadowed path ahead. The scent was still strong—sharp, metallic, iron-rich.
Blood.
Dennis was only a few steps behind him, sniffing the air as well.
"Same direction?" Dennis asked quietly.
Draven nodded once, never breaking the stride. "It's fresh. Maybe an hour old."
Draven and Dennis had been driving on the express when they perceived something wrong and decided it was a good idea to park their car by the road side and go into the woods to find out what it was.
The deeper they walked, the thicker the air became. Fog clung to the roots and hovered like a low whisper between the trees.
Then Draven halted. He turned toward his brother. "Let's spread out. Cover more ground."
Dennis blinked. "You sure?"
