An iron-studded leather glove pressed a fist-print into the packed snow as its Al’Miren owner struggled back to her knees. Her body shivered violently, half from the freezing, whipping winds, and half from the trail of blood painting the snow behind her. She squinted ahead as everything in her sight swam dizzily for a few seconds while her vision adjusted itself.
“I don’t know what you want,” she rasped. Just ahead of her stood an unflinching spirit panther, icy blue tail flitting about gently. Its cold eyes somehow appeared sympathetic now, but it made no motion to help her. It stared expectantly, silently urging her to press on.
How did I get myself into this mess?
It all started a few weeks ago. I saw this spirit for the first time watching me from afar as I went about my daily errands. Every day as I would go to the market, or tend to my garden, or sit amidst the flowers and polish my daggers, it would sit just far e