HUNDRED TWENTY-THREE

Thalia wandered through the forest as she continued her search. Her clothes were torn in different spots from constantly being caught in poking branches, and her shoes were discarded, leaving her trudging around barefooted. Her hair was a mess, and patches of dirt stained her skin.

Yet, she persevered.

As she ventured deeper, her nose wrinkled as a strange stench wafted into her nostrils, and she pinched the bridge of her nose. "What the hell?" She muttered.

Thalia paused and took a moment to inhale the air, trying to discern the source of the smell. It seemed familiar, yet she couldn't quite grasp what it was exactly. Another sniff and then realisation dawned on her.

It was the smell of blood!

The strong, metallic odour of fresh blood filled the air, assaulting her nostrils. But what was it coming from? Had an animal died? No, it wasn't an animal.

"An animal's scent wouldn't be as strong as this," she mumbled.

Deep down, she knew the scent wasn't coming from a stray deer shot to deat