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Description
Arien was an aficionado of the snow, he loved walking, running, and jumping in the stuff. Wet and thick, dry and powdery, light and sparkling, whatever the conditions, when it came to the snow he enjoyed it all. Still, you had to take certain precautions. So as he made his way down the slippery ravine he was careful where he placed his paws. You never knew which rocks had been effected by melting water eroding away at their structural integrity, or place a paw wrong onto an especially slick bit of rock, moss, or even just plain black ice and he could find himself sliding down the ravine, out of control, and in for a nasty fall. He was only a little way down the treacherous hill when a prickling feeling raced down his spine, quickly glancing behind him he didn’t see any immediate threat though he noticed a chill in the air that hadn’t been there before. He had felt something similar, though much more powerful at the shrine, when he had chosen Borga’s pale blue stone, a sense of foreboding, a sense of something powerful. Though some may call it evil, he thought of it as a commanding presence.

Picking up the pace slightly the pale barbary tokota leaped over a large fallen branch, paws neatly balancing on the downward slope, claws digging into the damp earth. He continued down the terrain, slowing a bit as he hit a particularly slick area. It was then he felt another shiver, this time the fur on the back of his neck stood on end, cold malevolence seeping into the air.
Pausing for a longer time to take a careful look around he thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye, a shadow, but its shape was … wrong. Was he just paranoid from his time at the shrine and his earlier experience or was there something else supernatural out there?

Arien maneuvered deftly through a grove of frost covered pine trees, ducking under some low branches, snow brushing off onto his back. He continued to glance backward, blue eyes wide, round ears swiveling at every sudden noise, he trekked onward, after all going back up meant possibly facing whatever it was that lurked behind him, and the only way forward up there had been that horrible rickety bridge. Down was his only real choice.

So toward the bottom of the ravine he would continue, he went at a trot, still trying to keep his footing, but nerves hurrying his pace. Something was out there, he had no doubt about that, but whether it would insist on hounding him he was unsure, perhaps now that it had been spotted the shadow would turn back, or maybe it really was an envoy of Boga watching over him. Mud squished in between Arien's toes as he walked through a particularly damp patch of earth, fur soaking up the liquid, leaving his paws flecked with the mixture of snow and dirt. The snow had been a constant on his journey so far, first in his vision, now in the real world and he guessed he would be seeing plenty more of it as one of Borga's chosen.

This time when the feeling came again it was accompanied by a definite swirl of snow that whirled violently around Arien, was this Borga again, watching over him? Was the spirit trying to tell him something, that he should face his fears, that the bridge had been the way he was supposed to go?

No, this feeling was more sinister, hungry, unlike the stony chill he had felt from Borga, and the tales he had heard about Meelanik flitted through his mind, had he somehow crossed the devourer by choosing Borga?
There was something wrong about that idea though. Power, yes, while the feeling held power, it wasn’t what he had felt with Borga, surely if this were another great spirit then the power he would be feeling would be at least equal. Another movement caught his eyes, the shadow flicked from one rocky outcropping to behind a nearby tree, Arien was tracking it this time. Ill intent oozed off the creature, a wanton desire to take him down, Arien’s hackles bristled at the thought. He had Borga’s amulet, surely the god wouldn’t let him get taken down by this creature.

Still, Arien was cautious, and he backed down the ravine, teeth bared, however not watching his path quickly caused him to slip a few stomach-wrenching feet down the ravine, and he scrabbled for purchase. One of his claws tore, as it caught at a loose stick hidden under a layer of snow, but mercifully his hind legs found solid ground, a shelf of rock not yet slick with ice.

As he regained his balance he swore he heard a burst of low laughter, the shadow mocking him. It sounded much closer now, having moved while the tokota was distracted. The wind had picked up, whistling through the trees, branches swaying and creaking. The bracelet he had been given after his encountered with Borga grew warm against his fur, urging him forward.

Arien bolted, flight or fight instinct kicking on, he couldn’t get trapped on this cliffside, if he could just make it down fast enough maybe the spirit wouldn’t be able to follow. As he sped forward the wind grew in volume once more, howling around him, and ice shards flew past, some hitting the backs of his legs, urging him onward. Panic blinding him he didn’t look back again until he reached the bottom of the ravine. Panting, he knew he had another choice to make.

Description
Arien was an aficionado of the snow, he loved walking, running, and jumping in the stuff. Wet and thick, dry and powdery, light and sparkling, whatever the conditions, when it came to the snow he enjoyed it all. Still, you had to take certain precautions. So as he made his way down the slippery ravine he was careful where he placed his paws. You never knew which rocks had been effected by melting water eroding away at their structural integrity, or place a paw wrong onto an especially slick bit of rock, moss, or even just plain black ice and he could find himself sliding down the ravine, out of control, and in for a nasty fall. He was only a little way down the treacherous hill when a prickling feeling raced down his spine, quickly glancing behind him he didn’t see any immediate threat though he noticed a chill in the air that hadn’t been there before. He had felt something similar, though much more powerful at the shrine, when he had chosen Borga’s pale blue stone, a sense of foreboding, a sense of something powerful. Though some may call it evil, he thought of it as a commanding presence.

Picking up the pace slightly the pale barbary tokota leaped over a large fallen branch, paws neatly balancing on the downward slope, claws digging into the damp earth. He continued down the terrain, slowing a bit as he hit a particularly slick area. It was then he felt another shiver, this time the fur on the back of his neck stood on end, cold malevolence seeping into the air.
Pausing for a longer time to take a careful look around he thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye, a shadow, but its shape was … wrong. Was he just paranoid from his time at the shrine and his earlier experience or was there something else supernatural out there?

Arien maneuvered deftly through a grove of frost covered pine trees, ducking under some low branches, snow brushing off onto his back. He continued to glance backward, blue eyes wide, round ears swiveling at every sudden noise, he trekked onward, after all going back up meant possibly facing whatever it was that lurked behind him, and the only way forward up there had been that horrible rickety bridge. Down was his only real choice.

So toward the bottom of the ravine he would continue, he went at a trot, still trying to keep his footing, but nerves hurrying his pace. Something was out there, he had no doubt about that, but whether it would insist on hounding him he was unsure, perhaps now that it had been spotted the shadow would turn back, or maybe it really was an envoy of Boga watching over him. Mud squished in between Arien's toes as he walked through a particularly damp patch of earth, fur soaking up the liquid, leaving his paws flecked with the mixture of snow and dirt. The snow had been a constant on his journey so far, first in his vision, now in the real world and he guessed he would be seeing plenty more of it as one of Borga's chosen.

This time when the feeling came again it was accompanied by a definite swirl of snow that whirled violently around Arien, was this Borga again, watching over him? Was the spirit trying to tell him something, that he should face his fears, that the bridge had been the way he was supposed to go?

No, this feeling was more sinister, hungry, unlike the stony chill he had felt from Borga, and the tales he had heard about Meelanik flitted through his mind, had he somehow crossed the devourer by choosing Borga?
There was something wrong about that idea though. Power, yes, while the feeling held power, it wasn’t what he had felt with Borga, surely if this were another great spirit then the power he would be feeling would be at least equal. Another movement caught his eyes, the shadow flicked from one rocky outcropping to behind a nearby tree, Arien was tracking it this time. Ill intent oozed off the creature, a wanton desire to take him down, Arien’s hackles bristled at the thought. He had Borga’s amulet, surely the god wouldn’t let him get taken down by this creature.

Still, Arien was cautious, and he backed down the ravine, teeth bared, however not watching his path quickly caused him to slip a few stomach-wrenching feet down the ravine, and he scrabbled for purchase. One of his claws tore, as it caught at a loose stick hidden under a layer of snow, but mercifully his hind legs found solid ground, a shelf of rock not yet slick with ice.

As he regained his balance he swore he heard a burst of low laughter, the shadow mocking him. It sounded much closer now, having moved while the tokota was distracted. The wind had picked up, whistling through the trees, branches swaying and creaking. The bracelet he had been given after his encountered with Borga grew warm against his fur, urging him forward.

Arien bolted, flight or fight instinct kicking on, he couldn’t get trapped on this cliffside, if he could just make it down fast enough maybe the spirit wouldn’t be able to follow. As he sped forward the wind grew in volume once more, howling around him, and ice shards flew past, some hitting the backs of his legs, urging him onward. Panic blinding him he didn’t look back again until he reached the bottom of the ravine. Panting, he knew he had another choice to make.