[Darkrelease]

The wind blew in from the east. It was a biting wind that cut right through the cloak of the small figure huddled near the cliff. The trees discouraged its advance a bit but here near the cliff it ran along the contour of the large walls. A normal humanoid would argue that it would be better to get out of the wind and into the tree line, taking their chances in the forest, even though the shadows were starting to lengthen. However, the slight figure huddled near the stone didn’t have the burden of a normal humanoids sense of logic. The figure looked up along the sheer cliff face for what seemed like the hundredth time and then settled huddled into its cloak once again.

To most humans the time spent on that rock would have seemed like agonizing eons. They would have shifted countless times, never finding any position of comfort from which to continue their steady gaze of the tree line. Yet this one figure stood still, from a distance it would seem like the figure was part of the rock, but for the shifting of the cloak in the wind. To most the time would have been agonizing, but to the slight figure the shadow of the tree line moved with speed towards it. Minutes passed like seconds and the figure did not stir. Darkness began to descend and the figure did not stir. Finally the wind died down, the howling of its scream descending to a slight whimper. The moon started to peak over the horizon just in time to highlight the first movement from the slight figure.

Nimbly the shape slipped off the rock it had been crouching on and took a moment to adjust itself. Hands went to both sides and shifted the weight on the hips, then moved to the back and adjusted the burden there as well. Taking a long moment the figure seemed poise in a pensive moment. With the noise of the wind gone the evenings wild life could be heard stirring. Sounds of animals came floating from the forest to the sharp ears of the cloaked figure, seemingly unperturbed by the humanoid standing not 20 feet from the tree line. The figure took one last quick moment to adjust a runaway bag before finally making its way to the tree line and quietly like a field mouse slipping into the shadows afforded by the forest.