#felescano ✧ 01.

[falsimile]

❝Quite the annoying little bastards, aren't you?❞

He snaps his fingers and a spear manifests in his hand, with which he makes blindingly quick work of a shade resembling a middle-aged man dressed in Elizabethan era clothing. ❝Not that I mind the cathartic relief.❞ And as the figure fades to memory, so too does the spear, disintegrating to blackened mud and evaporating as if it never existed to begin with. The silence is thick, so he works quickly. He kneels in front of an owl statue, examining it curiously before placing his hand on its head ( curious craftsmanship, mourning it ), and in a matter of seconds obliterating it with a small blast of darkness coalesced underneath his palm.

Flying shards of rock disperse the fog where they land, enough that he sees a wandering figure slowly emerge from obscurity. Oberon squints, patting away dust his clothes as he rises to his feet.

❝Oh? Are you perhaps lost?❞ That being said, even one so experienced with reconnaissance as Oberon will find themselves struggling to navigate such dense fog. Ah well, he'll just wing it and hope for the best.

@felescano