But he didn't run. Something stopped him. The red fox wasn't attacking him—it was looking at him. Not with fear, but with… pity. It was a look that felt raw and real, unlike the cold, distant gaze of his uncle.
"You don't understand the mission," Hunter growled, teleporting behind her, his staff ready to bind her. 6. Hunting Palismen
Hunter stepped through the market stalls, his golden boots clicking on the petrified wood flooring. He saw a small, elderly witch desperately clutching a wooden bat-like creature to her chest. She was trembling. Hunter didn't feel the thrill of the hunt; he felt a dull, familiar ache—the same one that whispered that he wasn't doing enough. But he didn't run
"It got away," Hunter told them, his voice shakier than he cared to admit. Not with fear, but with… pity
He didn't run away. Instead, he snapped his staff, using its energy to create a diversion—a blinding flash of light—and forced the fox into a nearby, safe hiding spot, whispering, "Run."
Hunter looked down at the tiny creature in his hand, then back at Luz, who was now holding a terrified bird palisman of her own. For a moment, they weren't enemies. They were just two people, both trying to survive in a place that didn't care about them. "This is… wrong," Hunter whispered, barely audible.
The witch hesitated, tears filling her eyes. She knew what "rehabilitation" meant for a palisman—the green goo, the destruction, the quiet.