Hefeydd cackles to himself, flying quickly around the tree before landing into a rolling heap, rocking from side to side. His tiny voice echoes eerily around him throughout the woods, but it doesn't bother him in the slightest. He feels no need to be quiet, despite how close the mortals are. If anything, the sound he is making now will only further aid him in driving them mad.

He couldn't quite keep track of how long he had been leading the mortals through the forest, their days and nights were tricky. They didn't make a difference to Hefeydd, so why were they so important to the mortals? He had a feeling it had been a week though. That sounded about right. He had seen them travelling along the edge of the forest, trying their best to stay within sight of the edge. They had failed to leave an offering to him, though, which meant they were fair game. He didn't know why they chose to travel through the forest instead of around it, especially if they weren't aware of fairy customs. Perhaps they were hunting something? No matter now, he was certain they weren't going to be going anywhere soon. He had made sure of that.

The first night after he had spotted them he remained in the darkness, wrapped up snug in shadows, waiting for them to lay out a little piece of bread and milk for him. He would have taken honey, fruit, anything really! What was important was the gesture. Milk was his favorite though. He would have helped them if they had offered him milk. Maybe. But as time passed and the little fairy became more agitated, he didn't like to remain still for too long. It was almost as if the mortals were trying to disrespect him and his people. To add insult to injury, they were killing animals in the forest for food, and taking far more wood for fires that they didn't even need. No offering and desecrating the forest. That just could not be tolerated. He spent some time looking around their camp, then, and decided exactly how to have his fun with them.

The one standing watch was the first step in his plan. It filled him with pride as he plotted. Here he was, making plans! How impressed would the others be when he returned. He would be named First Day after this, he was sure. Once he was sure the other mortals were asleep, he flew off a way into the forest before making a small glow with magical light, making it dance. He was close to giving up on the whole thing, the mortal was taking a long time to take the bait, when he heard the footsteps. The mortal was making an awful racket. But that was fine.

The trick to leading the mortal was to make it seem like he was always close to reaching the source of the light. If it got too far away, he might abandon it. Too close and he would see it for the ruse it was. He needed the perfect balance. Luckily, this wasn't his first time. The man followed his dancing light further into the forest. Hefeydd was very careful about making the path veer, while making it seem like the man was travelling a straight line. He needed distance for this to work. The point was to keep him separate from the others, to give them something to look for. The time passed slowly, Hed concentrating hard. He became distracted a few times, and the man almost reached the light. It was so hard to keep this up. So boring! He kept having to remind himself of what he was trying to achieve, but it was becoming harder. After hours, he finally gave up his little game. This would need to be far enough. As the light winked out, the mortal cried out suddenly, calling out for the light. Calling out for his friends. Calling out for anything. A sound nearby alerted Hed to the presence of a forest creature nearby, attracted by the sounds. Woops, he hadn't meant for that. But oh well!

Hed made his way back towards the camp, blowing the signs of the mortal's passage away as he went. It wouldn't do to have anyone following the trail. He could move faster when not trying to lead a simple mortal, so he reached their camp again just as they were looking for him. He hadn't been able to erase all signs of the mortal's passage, but with a little luck, it would be fine. He zipped away into the trees, away from the direction he had taken the first mortal, but still leading deeper into the forest. Noisily, he disturbed the ground and twigs to make it seem like someone big and clumsy had been this way. He mimicked the way the mortal had been calling out earlier, copying the voice exactly. With pride swelling his chest again, he heard the mortals begin to follow in his direction.

The next days passed quickly, then. He used the same ruse as before, making dancing lights appear to attract the others. Using the voice of their missing friend, disturbing the undergrowth to lead them further and further into the forest. When they tried to make camp, he did all kinds of things to terrify and annoy them. The first night he stole the map and left it at that. He made animal noises from the direction they had come, to make them believe retreating was not an option. Backtracking along their trail, he made a huge fuss, making misleading trails leading in other directions. The noises also meant to cause worry and fear.

When he was sure they were far from where they wanted to be, he stopped with the noises. He focused more on causing strife between them. He slipped into their camp, taking items from one and hiding them with another. Spoiling their food, piercing water skin, fraying ropes and worrying at pack straps so they would eventually give. It took time, and it took effort, but the successes were there.He returned their map to them, leaving it with a random mortal - Just not the one he had taken it from. The following fight ended in bloodshed, the accused thief being left behind.

That led him to today. The mortals were well and truly lost, their food supplies gone, weapons missing or dull. All that was left was to leave them alone, his job was done. As he flew off through the forest he heard the sounds of movement from ahead of him. Curiosity led him in that direction, where he came across a large blue lizard person. His plan changed quickly, and a cheeky grin split his face. Changing his voice to that of their missing companion, Hefeydd began screaming for help, before trailing off into a drawn out scream. Stifling more giggles, he wrapped himself in shadows once more and shot off skywards to watch what would happen.

Girshu looks around, searching the branches above him for the kind of twig density that a tree wasn't suppose to have. After a few trees he found what he was looking for, and climbs up to the nest. Leaving frost marks on the bark that would severely harm or even kill the tree in due time, climbing the tree was relatively easy for him thanks to his sharp talons. This soft matter was child's play compared to scaling the polar ice that his claws were made for. Looking at the nest, the mother bird flapped her wings aggressively to protect her eggs. Girshu spat in her face, the -30 degrees antifreeze fluim killing her almost immediately. Girshu picked up her body and then turned his attention to the eggs. Picking one up, he poked and sniffed it to test the shell thickness and the taste. Probably good.

He plopped it into his mouth, shell and all, and swallowed it. The egg was a bit gruff, but small enough that it didn't get stuck in his throat. The other three eggs followed suit. Girshu looks at the last egg, which was a larger dark and freckled egg rather than brownish. His favourite, though the reason for the random appearance eluded him. Every once in a while an egg like this one would just be amongst those of another race of birds, like a rare drop. Girshu picked it up and swallowed it. He didn't taste eggs, but he liked how the smooth shell of this egg kind glided through his throat with ease.

Girshu climbs down again and looks at the mother bird in his claws. He breaks off the head, the rapid temperature shift ruined the taste by rapidly bursting the cells. He then begins to pluck the feathers and rips off the less tasty parts like the feet. Once done he gobbles down the fowl, this time chewing and tasting it. It was mediocre.

As Girshu eats, he hears rustling in the bushes. Much too loud for a predator, or any forest inhabitant in general. Girshu drops the last few bites of the bird on the ground, instead turning his attention fully towards this potential monster or intruder. The rustling comes closer, heading for him in a straight line. It saw him, and it wanted him. Well, Girshu would give it more than it bargained for.

When the human bursts through the brush into the small clearing that Girshu was in, a rapier is rapidly drawn and pointed at the man's face. Girshu almost immediately wants to sheathe it again, because the undead weren't intimidated nor too affected by piercing weapons. Before he can though, the man speaks and rejects the conclusion that anyone would take from his appearance.

His clothes were torn and filthy, clearly not cared for at all. The man's hair stood up on end, not even combed down to dull the appearance of a madman. He hadn't even bothered to remove the stray twigs and leaves from it, or from his clothes. His feet were completely black from the mud and soil and his hands were covered in streaks of brown and red. Claw marks were spread over his chest, presumably given to him by a bear. Some of the deep scratches were festering, and others were so muddy that they were infections waiting to happen.

The man's sanity didn't seem less feral than his appearance. His eyes were wide open and bloodshot, staring at Girshu with an intensity that went beyond any rationality. There was dried and clotted blood on his lips and in his beard, showing that his last meal was eaten raw like a savage vulture. Standing like an actor would when portraying a parody of a savage, the man seemed to be a brute with any civilisation he once had beaten out of him by mother nature.

"You!" He shouts.

"Me." Girshu says calmly, not at all aware of what the man is speaking of.

"You! Bring me! You! Back to! YOU! Return!" The man rambled and shouted eratically. Girshu merely frowns, not at all able to decypher the man's words. "You! Dancing lights! Yours! Lead me! Lost! Back! Do so!"

The man was frotting at the mouth from anger, his words becoming less and less coherent as he continued. Girshu looks at him with disgust, the man being what his whole kind was in essence, but without the veil of civilisation and manners. His rambling was starting to annoy him. "You! Voice! My voice! Stole my voice! Led me lights! Four days! Stray! Lost for! Four days! Return! Return me! RETURN ME!"

Girshu sighed and the man charges at him. He falls back as a gust of frozen wind hits him, shoving him against a tree trunk. Girshu's rapier pierces his heart not seconds after. Wiping off the blood on what little 'clean' cloth the man had left on his body, he turns away and starts wandering further in the direction he had to go to.

That was about… three days ago?

Girshu had made some decent headway since then. Using the sun to determine his direction and fortunately being blessed with few cloudy days, he was certain that he had been going North North West at least most of the time. He had been going in that direction more than any other, at least. He'd eventually make it out of the forests and into the grasslands beyond. Just a matter of time. And if he was lucky, without any complications or further headaches.

Luck was not with him, however.

As Girshu wanders, guided by the sunlight that shone through the gaps in the canopy, he hears a familiar voice. The voice of the man he killed a few days ago, though not riddled with insanity. A voice that called out for help, only to turn to a death scream when something got to it. Perhaps the man had a twin? Or just someone with a similar voice, Girshu could barely tell those humans apart anyway. It didn't matter. Any normal predator would gain plenty of sustenance from the body of a human, and thus have no reason to also stalk after Girshu. Contrary to what those superstitious humans thought with their simple mindsets, one was actually safer rather than in danger when they heard someone being killed by a predator.

What approached him wasn't a predator, though. The rustling was too loud, too clumsy and too direct. Similar to how the man had approached him before, only there were more than one this time. Girshu sighs, being bothered with this again.

Hefeydd flew around in excited circled, clapping his hands together as he heard the mortals rushing forwards. He wasn't entirely sure what the lizard person was, it was definitely something new to him. Maybe it was a type of kobold! Hed liked kobolds. They were easy to lead down holes, into caves, off of cliffs. Yes, this must be some kind of kobold. It was much bigger, so maybe it was a giant kobold. Attaching a note to the creature in his mind, he labeled it a Giant Kobold.

What happened next was absolutely wonderful, everything happening much better than Hefeydd had hoped it would. The seven mortals charged into the clearing, shouting and roaring in their rough, angry voices. So much different from the musical notes of the fey. It made it hard sometimes to pay attention and fully understand them. As they stumbled to a stop at the sight of the Giant Kobold, they seemed to deflate, to become uncertain. One at the back actually began to cry, and take two steps backward! Well this would not do! If they ran, what would make the Giant Kobold chase them? Becoming faster, Ed tore a twig off a branch and shot around in a loop, diving at the mortal at the back and striking his neck with the stick then shooting back off into the trees. He had maintained the shadows around himself, or at least, he had hoped he did. Landing, he crept back, peeking through a bush to see what would happen.

The man he had struck had screamed, and from the looks of things he had run forwards into the back of one of his companions. After that, all kind of chaos happened, making Hefeydd skip and dance with joy.

The lead mortal, snapping out of his fear of the Giant Kobold, began snapping orders to his companions. Only seconds had passed, but it took the others a few more to compose themselves again. It seemed they had not been sleeping well, which led them to be slower, Hed mused to himself with a wicked little grin. Dancing from foot to foot, he watched as two of the mortals drew bows. The sting of the first had been loosened far too much to be of any use, by Hefeydd the night before, and the mortal cried out in dismay as he realised his weapon was useless. The other didn't notice that his bow string had been tightened until he was trying to put an arrow to it and draw back. Silly mortals! The leader was struggling with his sword, unable to draw it. Hefeydd was proud of this. On his way out of their camp the thought had struck him. Using a little water and some icy magic, he had frozen the blade of hateful metal within the scabbard. Obviously there was enough frost left to keep it trapped firmly. His little chest puffed out with pride. Two of the mortals had axes and were attempting to circle around the Giant Kobold, trying to approach it from two directions at once. Hed's tiny brow furrowed as he watched, trying to remember which had… Suddenly the mortal on the left dropped the axe and fell to his knees, swaying from side to side. A little sap and some poisonous magic applied to the haft of the axe days ago! He had been anxious he had done something wrong, thinking the mortal would fall days ago. This was much better! The blade of the other axe was dulled beyond use but the mortal didn't seem to know.

Giggling, Hefeydd checked his shadows and flew up and around the tree, circling it as he gained height before hovering in place to watch what would happen next.

Girshu sighs as more humans rushed into the clearing. He was in an ancient, monster-infested forest, yet his encounters were still this unoriginal and common? How dull. Drawing his rapier and preparing for a fight, he prepares to defend and counter-attack. The humans didn't seem as madly aggressive as the last guy, though. One of them was already preparing to retreat, and it was clear that the others would follow once that happened. He didn't, though, instead yelping in pain for some reason and bumping into the guy in front of him. The biggest brute amongst them took it as a sign of them being ready and bloodthirsty, and shouted some orders.

Girshu takes a stance, preparing for battle. And then he waited. And waited a bit longer. The ones with bows hadn't kept them properly, the only sword wielder apparently allowed his sword to rust into the sheath, and one of the axes they had was rendered so dull it became a cudgel instead. The other's axe though, it made it clear that this was no mere human carelessness though. Not even humans would be stupid enough to put a toxicity spell on their own handle and then forgetting about it, even if they could cast something like that. And this guy neither seemed intelligent nor gifted enough for it.

So, there was something that was terrorising these travelers? Probably the same something that had driven the man from before insane. It seemed to like toying with their gear, trapping and cursing it. With magical means. Girshu couldn't tell whether the axe hilt was magic, but he could sense the cryomancy around the sword after examining it more attentively. Not that such simple trickery could bother him, not with his biology. Girshu's body temperature was so cold that everything he carried on him was frozen, so frigid that the warmblooded races would be harmed just by touching it.

One of the last two humans who hadn't been tricked yet shouts and points his spear at Girshu. Half expecting it to blow up, Girshu instead sees that the simplistic weapon worked as intended. The man rushed at him, only to fall flat when an ice shard struck him straight in the head. Girshu sighs, turning his attention to the man with the cudgel axe and points his claw at him. The man screamed and charged forwards, swinging the axe over his head. Two shards in his chest made him stop and buckle over, his club falling to the ground and red circles growing rapidly on his tunic.

The small clearing is draped in silence for a moment, the last four remaining humans silent and fearful.

"YOU! IT MUST BE YOU WHO CURSED US LIKE THIS, YOU MONSTER! RELEASE US!" The sword guy said. Picking up a big rock with both hands, he runs at Girshu with the intend of killing him in the most savage and simple way possible. The two bow wielders throw down their useless twigs and grab weapons themselves. One clutches an arrow in each hand as if it's a small spear or pick, while the other draws a dagger.

Girshu dodges the heavy rock with relative ease, the dehydrated man being way beyond his prime condition and the rock too heavy for his denutriated muscles. As the rock falls onto the ground and buries itself deeper into the mud with a soft ploof, Girshu grabs the man's head with one hand. The man screams with frightened eyes as the frostbite immediately turns one side of his face dark purple-red and slowly starts to creep slowly over his skin. He pulls himself loose, scrambles back and cludges his face with his muddy hands. Girshu looks at his hand with disgust, peeling off a chunk of already frozen solid cheek from it and scratching off some other parts of frozen human flesh. The two-faced man seems petrified, his former will to fight completely gone. So does the man with the knife, after seeing how his archery friend died unceremoniously to another ice shard that Girshu threw while otherwise occupied with his face grab. They turn around, running into the woods without any care for the companions and the gear they were leaving behind. If they had the fluid reserves in their body to produce urine, they probably would've soiled their pants too.

Girshu looks at the man who was having what was either the trip of his life or a brain-damaging seizure. With his fallen in cheeks and hollow eyes, this man was clearly not in a good condition, he was malnitricious like the rest and in no state to survive any serious poison. Girshu planted a shard of ice in his chest to put him out of his misery.

He then looks at the last man left standing. Or rather, boy. The lad looks at him with some semblance of calmth and civilised manners in his eyes, and raises his hands in surrender. He seemed genuine, in that he looked too scrawny and cowardly to attack Girshu, and so Girshu left him be. Examining the bodies and taking a few pouches with a shabby amount of silver from them, Girshu is disappointed to learn that these guys were as poor as they looked. The sword was of decent quality, but not decent enough to carry to the nearest merchant. The arrows were few and nicked, and Girshu had no eye for which ones were too crooked to be worth anything. They had a map, but Girshu didn't trust the navigational tools of a group who was this lost. Which only left the knife and the poisoned axe. Girshu took the first and left the latter, and turned to continue travelling.

"Uhm, sir?" The boy asked, trailing behind Girshu as he walked away. "If it's not too much of a bother, could I-"

He chokes on his tongue as Girshu looks around at him, a sight that always seemed to frighten humans considering his red eyes and long dark-blue teeth. The boy recollects himself and continues with a stutter. "Please, good sir. I- I need to get out o- o- of these woods. I can't…"

"Not my problem." Girshu replies. His ability to speak only seems to calm the boy though, and he quickly walks a bit faster to catch up with Girshu.

"Please, kind sir." The boy says, paling when Girshu glares at him again. "I mean, sir. Just sir. There is some kind of terribly cruel monster around here, who might target you next. They took great glee in torturing our group for an entire week, and are responsible for the deaths of two of us. Or well, all of us except for me, if you count your handiwork…"

"It just decided to follow us and torment us for no reason other than our presence in these woods, and it clearly has no qualms with killing us. Whether directly or indirectly." He says, looking at the poisoned man. "And it has led us astray, without any clue as to where we are or in which direction the way out is."

Girshu looks at the lad and studies him a bit closer. He was young, what humans called a teen, probably. His hair was messy and his bangs covered his eyes, but his clothes were more well-kept than the others. A bit more expensive too, and meant for the woods. There was a book strapped to his belt, with the lack of a title on the cover suggesting that it was a journal of some kind. There were also several small pouches with unknown content, and something that could be a wand of sorts. Not necessarily the magical kind, just something to either focus magic or some other simple purpose.

"I have stuff. And skills, sir. While I do realise that they didn't get my own group out of here, perhaps it would be-"

"Lesss talking, more factss." Girshu interrupted his endless babbling. 

"Of course! Of course! I- I-" The lad responds. "There's some valuable stuff back at our camp, if you'd be so graceful to oblige a minor detour. I'm a herbalist, or well, an alchemist. I can make some pretty nifty potions, and I was trying to find a rare herb around these woods. We had a map, and should've found the place that it claimed to have these herbs about five days ago. We should've been out of the woods already. And-"

"I hear more talking."

"Right, right. Sorry. I just want to get out of these woods, good sir. If you'll have me…"

Girshu sighs and turns around, pointing at the dead grass and dying roots left in his wake. "My body temperature killss whatever I walk over, creating a pretty clear trail to follow. There'ss probably ssome dead treess with frosstbite along the way too, to enssure that you're on the right path. Just follow thiss trail, and you sshould be out of the woodss in about a week or sso."

"Oh. A week. I don't think I can survive for that long, even if it weren't for the monster who follows me."

"And you call yoursself a herbalisst?" Girshu says, rolling his eyes. "Lissten, I don't know how long I will sstill need to get out of the woodss thiss way. And I'm not ssharing my food with you, human. Sso you're better of going the other way."

The boy looks at him, and Girshu knows that he's just going to walk after him regardless. He sighs, rolls his eyes very clearly and then looks at the boy. "Fine. Grab the sspear, even you sshould know how to usse that kind of weapon. Then go to your camp. Grab what you can carry and nothing more, becausse I won't help you carry anything. Get back here in fifteen minutes, because that'ss how long you'll have before I'm leaving. Need more than fifteen minutess, and I'll asssume you're dead."

The boy nods, relieved and grateful, and quickly runs off. Girshu sighs as he sees that the boy forgot to grab the spear first, but leans against a tree regardless. As long as the boy wouldn't prove too much of a hassle, he would make a good pack mule.

He shook with laughter, falling through the air as he forgot to keep himself airborne he was so distracted by the unfolding events. It was even more than he had hoped for! Before hitting the floor he regained control of himself, hovering and finally landing to continue watching from the ground. The view was terrible from down here, but less dangerous! The Giant Kobold was just tearing through the mortals like they weren't even there! What a scary fellow he was. Hefeydd giggled, imagining the fun he could have with the Giant Kobold. The question was, how to control it. He began skipping around, turning the puzzle over in his head, completely missing the final deaths.

When things became quieter, screaming and shouting replaced by boring talking, Hefeydd stopped what he was doing to investigate. There was one mortal left, talking to the Giant Kobold. He wasn't close enough, and frankly didn't care enough, to try and eavesdrop. This wasn't right though. The Giant Kobold should be killing this mortal, just like all the others! Not chatting! Discussing the weather or what have you. He kicked a leaf, flipping it over as he watched their conversation continue. It ended with the mortal turning around and running off, back the way he had come. What had he missed? There must have been something. Hissing with frustration, Hefeydd launched himself back into the air and circled around, completely missing the destruction below him while caught up in his own rambling thoughts. If the Giant Kobold wasn't going to do anything to the mortal, then it fell to Hefeydd.

Course of action decided, Hefeydd flew off after the mortal. He hadn't gone far, really, despite his obvious efforts to make haste. Why this one had been spared Hefeydd couldn't fathom. He was the smallest of the mortal group, perhaps that was it. Maybe the Giant Kobold, remembering his little kobold family, had a soft spot for little people. If so then Hefeydd could see them getting along fabulously! All Hefeydd needed to do was remove the mortal from the picture.

He followed the mortal back to the camp. Once there the mortal wasted no time in tearing through packs and tents, gathering things up. He wasn't being very careful about it, some of the things he had gathered were spoiled or ruined, by Hefeydd himself.This thought made him preen for a moment as he continued watching the mortal do whatever it was he was doing. Rushing, from the look of things. Was he scared to be alone? A wicked grin split Hefeydd's face. He didn't have to be alone…

"He. Killed. Me." The voice of Roger, the first of their group to disappear came out of the trees his left. The boy froze in place, his heart hammering inside his chest. Could that really be Roger? They had been hearing his voice for so long now. Was it his vengeful spirit. Was that what had been tormenting them all this time. "Go…. Go AWAY!" he screamed shrilly into the woods.
"Boy. He. KILLED. ME!!" The voice became louder, much louder, and a lot closer now. No, this couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening. He needed to get back to the creature in the forest. There he would be protected. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" 
The branches began to shake violently in the direction the voice was coming from. Whimpering, the boy abandoned everything he had been collecting, instead choosing to run away. Run back towards the creature. It might kill him, but he couldn't stand being here alone any longer. He made it three steps before something snagged his foot, sending him crashing face first into the ground. He could taste blood. He tried to move, to get back to his feet, but his body wouldn't respond any more. It was like he was paralyzed. His eyes, stuck open, could see the forest to the side of his body. He tried to call for help, but only managed a choked cry. Grass began to grow around him, and everything went dark as he was cocooned in it. 

Girshu looked at the young lad running off, unarmed and a bit too careless. This was the same scared boy who had warned him of some vengeful and murderous being, right? Yet he even forgot to grab the spear. Stupid boy. Girshu waits for a bit longer, his frost slowly creeping into the tree. As a few minutes pass, the cold seeps all the way to the tree's core and ensures it eventual demise. In a few days, the leaves above him would wither and die, then the bask would start to peel off and eventually the whole tree would become a mangled corpse waiting to be felled by a storm or forest fire. Not that Girshu noticed this, he was just leaning against a tree.

Once the boy's footsteps and general ruckus of traversing the woods got too faint to be audible, Girshu went after him. Following the clear trail of broken branches and muddy footsteps that the group of humans left, he easily caught up with the boy again. He didn't let himself be seen though, keeping his distance and avoided making much noise to evade detection by both the boy and whatever was haunting him. Girshu smiles. Because if there was one thing that all predators had in common, it was that they were drawn to the weakest specimen of the herd. Especially when it was separated from the rest. This young, lost and lonely boy was certainly weak enough to awaken that instinctive desire. And out of self-preservation, Girshu wanted to know what kind of predator might follow him soon.

He was disappointed to see that the monster didn't just reveal itself. Instead, it cloaked itself in shadows or hid by other means, despite this last survivor of the group being all alone. As far as the creature knew, there shouldn't be any bystanders. At least, Girshu hopes that he had remained undetected. Though this kind of behaviour also told some things about the predator, including that it was probably not a physically powerful being. Fast and stealthy, but not something that could take down a lone enemy in a single swoop, like a barghest.

Instead, the creature used it's mimicry ability again. The voice of that one guy echoes through the woods, speaking of Girshu murdering him. Did he really know that, or was it mere conjecture? The monster didn't seem too savvy of human motivations, though. If the kid saw Girshu kill four of his party with his own eyes and still insist on tailing him, what would the death of one more change? Girshu smiled, learning more and more of the creature's shortcomings.

The two were now screaming, and Girshu scowled. He hated human voices, especially when they were arguing. Props to the monster for imitating that annoying detail too. Girshu would be sure to compliment them for it when they were frozen solid.

The boy drops the gear he was gathering and makes a run for it when the bushes start to rustle. Girshu stays in hiding, knowing that it would be child's play for magic to make movement like that without the caster actually being in the general area. No, he had to wait for the monster to make its move. Now that the boy was panicked and blindly running, the situation was perfect for any predator to strike.

It didn't though. A vine wrapped itself around the boy's ankle instead and made him fall over with a rather nasty fall. He shivered and gasped, but he was clearly not in control of his own body any more. Grass began to grow over him, consuming him. Girshu waited, knowing that humans could last about three minutes without air. He wasn't going to rush in before he had to, and thus warn the monster of his presence. Not when that monster might present themselves first. Keeping his eyes peeled and his every sense trying to locate any movement around him, Girshu waits.

Then he notices a strange scent coming from the boy, who's almost coccooned in the grass by now. One of the bottles on his belt had shattered, spreading the thick liquid contents everywhere. It didn't seem to do much before, but now there was smoke coming from one of the drenched pouches as the liquid seeped through. The grass seemed to wither and die around the smoke, turning black and blighted at a rapid pace. Girshu stays in hiding, wondering what was happening but not at all intending to go check it out up close.

Hefeydd spun around in victory as he watched the mortal swallowed up by the grass. That had worked out extremely well! Now, he would go and find that Giant Kobold and see what fun he could have with it. Should he take it further into the forest, and get it lost somewhere with all kinds of nasty beasts? Or out of the forest, where there were all kinds of mortals that could be played with too? It was so hard to choose!

An acrid smell burned his nose, causing him to turn back to face the mortal's form, buried in the grass. Except, he wasn't buried any more, was he? All the pretty green grass was dying, revealing the body inside! No no no. This was terrible! Why was the hateful mortal killing the grass? How was the hateful mortal killing the grass? Was he magical, like Hefeydd? Or like those boring mortals who walked around, throwing magic at each other and everything else they came across, just because they could? Was there another mortal he had missed? No, of course not! Hefeydd would have known if there had been another. He glanced around anyway, just to be sure. Not that he was scared of mortals, oh no, not him. But he hated surprises. Nothing jumped out at him though, as he slowly glided over to the now uncovered body, still keeping his own tiny form shrouded in shadows. Best to be safe.

He hoped that the mortal might have been weaker and passed on while covered by the grass, but unfortunately that was not so. It had been a little much to hope for, he had been covered only a short time of course. He stood next to the body, fists on his hips as he tried to decide what to do about this troublesome mortal. He wasn't moving, which meant he would need to wait until the mortal was awake before he could do anything about it. He lashed out with a foot, not expecting to harm the mortal, but just out of mild frustration. The impact barely ruffled the boy's clothes, but at that moment he came screaming back to his senses. Literally.

The scream pierced the still forest air, making Hefeydd jump strait up into the air. Powered by his wings this turned into an upwards burst of speed, leaving him hovering in place five feet in the air. Hissing and spitting with anger, he glared down at the mortal as he began thrash and twist, tearing at the grass around him and scrambling away. Good, the annoying mortal was terrified, eyes bulging out of his skull as he stared around him, head whipping this way and that. Scooting along backwards, he finally backed into a tree which caused him to scream and spin around again. He was making an awful racket. What if the Giant Kobold heard and came back this way? Hed would need to do something fast to silence him, and take care of him once and for all. He was about to do something incredibly mean when he was struck by a thought. The mortal had killed the grass, somehow. Would he be able to harm Hefeydd? Growling, he stopped what he had been planning. Could he be patient and watch, before acting? Oh, how he hated to wait. He had an idea, then. He needed to test the mortal. It would keep him busy, and keep him safe. But it would also mean letting the Giant Kobold have him back for now. All was not lost, though. They could still be led. Maybe it would be easier to use the mortal as bait.

A shadow approaches the kid as the grass withers around him. It was small and it was clearly unnatural, shrouding a figure inside. Or an illusion, meant to deceive anyone who thought that the being had come out of hiding. Yes, with such a small bundle of shadows, it was probably just a decoy. Girshu looks at it and the boy, and the way that the boy didn't react to its presence. Then the figure in the shadows kicks him, and the boy reacted. Hm, not an illusion after all. But judging from the reaction it was easily startled and clearly not that bright. A familiar?

This was intriguing. Whatever this was, it wasn't a simple monster of some kind. It might've made a pact with a… what was it again? Demon? Tanari? Fiend? There were a whole bunch of names for the interplanar creatures that overlapped and referred to a whole lot of vaguely established differences. But this creature looked like an imp, or maybe a mephid. The size was correct, as was the behaviour. Girshu couldn't tell, the sudden jump away from the boy had briefly taken the figure out of their shadows, but rendered them a blur to the naked eye at the same time. Greenish. So not an imp, but a green mephid. The chaotic kind of servant.

Girshu looks at what it was doing, and at what was happening to the boy. The foul smell of the stuff that spread over his leg and through the dirt, it was definately blight. Necromancy. Even Girshu had seen that vile form of magic with his own two eyes before, it being a rather common form of evil around the human lands. Though this specific application was unknown to him, he only knew the shambling corpses and the life draining touches that necromancers used. The solution was not just killing the grass, it was rendering the soil infertile for probably decades to come. And to his leg, the damage was similarly horrifying. The skin was cracking and falling off in scrabs, his blood was turning brown and thicker while it was still in his veins, his skin colour was turning a black-freckled grey and boils were rapidly forming. The boy looks horrified, grabbing at his leg and trying to wipe the necrotic stuff off. It only resulted in his fingers showing a similar deterioration. He scrambled back and seems positively at the end of his latin, not even seeming to notice the openly unnatural shadows floating nearby. It just observed him, probably amused.

Girshu wasn't, though. He was barely even interested. There were thousands of ways for humans to kill themselves and others, and this wasn't that much more horrifying than a great many ways that Girshu had already seen. It didn't seem as bad as burning alive, certainly. No, Girshu had already written the boy off as a lost cause. There was no way that the kid wouldn't lose his leg, and he was thus rendered stranded in these woods without any hope of making it out. Girshu certainly wouldn't be dragging him out. Instead he returns his attention to the familiar. The master didn't seem to come out of hiding, so he just had to use the familiar to find them. A familiar would always know where their master was hiding, and they'd return to them when they were hurt and panicking. Girshu smiles and comes out of hiding.

Aiming in the direction that the familiar came from, Girshu conjures up a whole blast of frost and hurls it that way. If he was lucky, the master had been careless and hadn't told the familiar to take a detour before coming out. The cone of cold turned into a volley of ice spikes, disappearing into the dark shrubbery and only making it apparent that they struck something by the dull thumps that they made. No screams of pain, though, shame. Girshu quickly throws a ball of frost at the familiar before they could flee, just enough to harm it proper but not to kill or immobilise it. That ought to make it flee back to hide behind his master's skirts. Somewhat quickly to not lose sight of his guide, Girshu begins to slither in the direction that the mephid fled to, ignoring the lad's soft whispers for help.

Hefeydd holds his nose against the stink that start coming from the mortal. Foul magic, that. Looked like it was eating the mortal alive! While normally such things would be fun to watch, the magic being used to do it was foul. Dead. Disgusting! How could anyone handle such a thing? Well, luckily for Hed, he didn't have to. Giggling to himself, he floated up a little higher, begin another one of his lazy circles through the air. It was becoming obvious that the mortal wasn't doing this to himself, and didn't want it to happen. Also, it appeared he was powerless to do anything to stop it. How strange. There must be someone else nearby controlling the magic, but Hefeydd couldn't see anyone, or smell anyone, hear anyone, feel anyone! So that meant, there wasn't anyone!

Cold magic tore through the air, freezing Hefeydd in place as he watched it hit a bush. The irony of his previous thoughts were completely lost on him. Everything was lost on him. Hadn't he been in that bush recently? Or had it been another one? He looked down at himself, wings beating to keep him hovering in place, to check his shadows. They were still around him, weren't they? Yes. He couldn't be seen which meant he couldn't be hurt and he had nothing to worry about! There were others of his kind that liked to turn invisible, and it was something Hefeydd was capable of… But he liked his shadows. They made him feel warm and protected. They worked! The ice had not come for him, and now he had some idea of the direction the magic was flung from. Hadn't there been someone he had met recently that used ice magic? There was something familiar about it, something that was nagging at him but he just couldn't put his finger on it. There was the mortal under him, and before that there had been… Other mortals? Yes! They had met a Giant Kobold!

As Hefeydd began a little midair jig, wrapped up in his shadows as he celebrated remembering the Giant Kobold and dead mortals, he was blasted by a wave of cold air. The chill got into his body and his wings, startling him and causing him to drop from the air. With a burst of breath he hit the ground, rolling into a ball and spinning away. His shadows had been blown away by the impact of the magic and he was left exposed on the ground. His body temperature had plummeted, and he was shivering away violently. His eyes searched for the area he had thought the magic had come from. Had it been there? Of course, if he remembered it there then it was there! He shot a ball of fire in that direction, some eight feet away from where the cryomancer was actually standing. While the magic ball of flame was flying through the air Hefeydd was wrapping shadows around his own shivering form while he began to run through the bushes in the opposite direction. He would find his way back here soon, and get his revenge. For now, he needed to find somewhere to warm himself up!

Girshu slithers towards the mephid, only for the familiar to respond with a fireball. He apparently hadn't seen Girshu yet, but Girshu still stopped in place. He quickly turned and watched where the fireball went. He sends a ball of frost after it, blasting away the flames that were starting to eat away at the leaves. Like hell Girshu was going to let them set fire to the forest and gain an advantage over him that way.

When he turned back to the mephid though, the little critter was gone. Girshu curses and moves towards where it had last been. Bits of frost showed where it went, and the small footsteps showed that it wasn't flying, but neither would last too long. Girshu slithers to the direction that the familiar went in, peering through the shrubbery. Someone of their size could easily hide in a hundred places in just the coming ten meters, so any further and Girshu would lose them. Which was he said to himself, while in reality he already lost any chance of finding the mephid.

Girshu curses and calls upon his innate magic. The water in the air immediately condensates on the nearest surface and the leaves grow more light blue. The condensation turns to frost flowers that render the entire area solid, and the area of effect continues to grow. Girshu looks around for anything to come out of hiding or produce steam breath in this new air. He doesn't see anything of the like however, and curses again. He now truly lost track of the damn familiar, and thus had no hope of locating their master. Continuing in the direction that the mephid fled to, he takes one last long shot.

As the seconds turn to minutes however, and minutes into hours, the pursuit turns into wary vigilance and careful awareness turns to basic caution. Following the guiding light of the sun into the direction that it claimed to be North-West like before, Girshu merely keeps the chance that the mysterious being was chasing him in the back of his head. But, it was equally possible that it was only interested in the humans, or easy prey.

Seeing something interesting, Girshu looks up at the bird's nest. He would've missed it if it weren't for the bird flapping its wings. Girshu licks his lips. He could eat, and didn't mind skipping the whole searching part of foraging.