Move on

You decide to move on. You don't know if the man is truly dead, even if his lips have turned blue. As you pass his body, leaving the clearing, you deliver a sharp heel to his chest, causing it to collapse into a bloody mess. The forest seems to groan with your action, but you are reassured in the fact that he is, certainly, truly dead. Death never used to bother you; why should it now?

Deciding to follow your nose for the time being, you set off through the tangle of trees and roots that make up this forest. There is no obvious trail to follow, and you can see no footprints that would give an indication of how it is you ended up in this forest in the first place.

The snow beneath your boots is a crisp pearly white. There are patches where it has failed to penetrate the thick foliage above, but otherwise it is perfectly even. It crunches underfoot, a noise which both pleases your ears and irritates you at the same time.

Your shoulder begins to throb - you had largely forgotten about it because of the glee of theft. You consider stopping now, to assess what you have - perhaps there is ointment for the injury, or some bandages. You are also aware that this forest possesses a certain magical quality - unlike many of the nations, those from the Verti Alliance are acutely aware of enchanted happenings. This skill both annoys you and aids you. This makes you feel that you should move on, lest something reach out from behind and grab you.

Do you...

Look at what you have?

Continue walking?

The End

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