Chapter 112 The Packhouse (1)

• The sun set in the sky as fresh colors brushed upon an artist's canvas as if those rays were destined to create a great work of art, one given to those open to capturing simple moments in the soul and in a few minutes the sky darkened with white clouds floating.
• She moved through the woods, winds bustled through the branches of the trees, making the leaves howl in their symphony. It was eerie, yet the cool soothing breeze seemed to calm her nerves, the rain was going to come down any second, and its distinct smell was filling the air. Plush, intertwining clouds pushed their grey front toward where she walked.
• Nearing her destination, she felt a quick movement behind her, followed by a low growl as though being stalked by a wolf making her turn quickly.