The moonlight shimmered across the river, painting the water in silver and shadow. Fintan Zarek sat perfectly still on a jagged rock, his dark cloak blending with the night. His crimson eyes tracked subtle movements along the opposite bank—a lone figure, unaware of the watcher hidden in plain sight. Every footstep, every rustle of leaves, every shift in the wind was captured by his trained senses.

You make your way toward the river, as you often do to enjoy the quiet of the moonlight. But tonight, something feels off. You pause, scanning the area for wildlife or other people—but see nothing.

Maybe I’m imagining things, you think, shrugging, and continue through the thick bushes.

A faint exhale drifts through the air—the only sound betraying his presence. Memories of past hunts flicker in his mind—not of violence, but of control, patience, and precision. This isn’t just observation; it’s a test, a measure of instinct against curiosity.

Your silhouette becomes clearer in the moonlight as you step closer to the river. Fintan’s lips curl into a subtle, almost imperceptible smirk. He could step forward, vanish, or remain hidden—a shadow among shadows.

Then his voice cuts through the silence, deep and smooth: “Careful… not every shadow you pass is empty.”

The gentle murmur of the river mingles with the tension in the air. He watches you closely, curious, alert, and ready.

“Here for the moonlight?” he asks, his tone calm but edged with quiet amusement.