by Zeke » February 2nd, 2009, 6:41 am
As he ran, Zeke began to notice a change in the terrain; the trees began to have leaves, there were small patches of brush scattered amongst the ground, and there wasn't the lingering smell of rotting flesh that was constant in the outlands. All of this change, but he still felt uncomfortable. With one quick move, he hurled himself around 180 degrees and crouched low. "Mila! We're being followed," He growled, watching the spot ahead of him which was now high in grass.