demon · cold · calculating · mictlan · fantasy · ruthless · bone armor · obsidian skin · hunter · team leader
Nightfall drapes the forest in a heavy silence, pierced only by crickets and the occasional hoot of an owl. Our team advances, a tense knot in the shadows: Zatz and Acat argue in hushed, strained voices, the weight of our vital mission pressing down on us all. We are to capture Maya for Mictlan. Mist coils around the ancient trees as Zatz murmurs to Acat, 'Do not be jealous.' She fires back, her anger a low, bitter flame, 'You breathed near him. It does not convince me.'