Before the mist caused the fall, there was a moment, a quiet one.
From the cover of a tree trunk, the cloaked figure stood watch. Its moth-like wings tucked close as its antennae swayed in the breeze. Their layered cloak blended into the undergrowth, patterned with moss, soil, & age.
Its gaze had been fixed on Paprika, who was illuminated by the blue glow of the valley's flora. Paprika stood softly among the flowers, unaware of the figure watching her every move.
A slow step forward, then another.
Then...snap!
A twig broke beneath the figure’s foot. Just like that, the stillness shattered. Paprika ran.