Maeve has lived in the forests long enough, survived with the animals; predators, and preys alike. Vigilance by now is a second nature, alert at all times even in her deepest slumber, for whatever may come in the night.
This night wasn’t an exception, even with the comforts of the village and the strongest warriors by her side. She woke up with a feeling of dread, previous weariness gone in an instant as she observed the trees from outside the window. The sun is still out and a tree forms a dark silhouette against the light of the moon. She notices that the birds from the tree flew in haste, in alarm that it shakes the branches.
“Riven! Riven!” She whisper-shouts, trying to wake him from his deep slumber.
He squints and rubs his eyes, and sat up when he notices Maeve’s distress, “what?
