22

The huge moon, which had barely begun to wane, silvered the tops of the trees with a cold, lifeless light, played with crimson reflections on the red leaves. But its insistent light could not break through the tangled branches and reach the low undergrowth and grass. However, they were not in this forest. Thick crooked trunks with cracked bark rose from the stone-hard, bare earth, covered with a layer of black ash. Grass did not grow here, young trees did not grow here, there were no mushrooms and berries. Darkness reigned here for centuries...

The inhabitants of this forest did not need light, their eyes could see perfectly in the darkness. The night was the time that stirred their frozen blood, bit into their essence, forcing them to rush through the thicket of the forest, in the vain hope of finding food for themselves.

Gray humanoid creatures glided between the black trunks of forest giants with swift jumps. That night, their movements did not resemble their usual convulsive throw