He knows there is. He knows it. Something - beyond the range of peripheral vision, beyond what he can perceive - is behind him or above him or on some different plane, prickling at the back of his neck and chilling his lungs. It's watching him.
There are too many places to hide here and too many ways something could leap out at him. The trees are all too tall, too wrong, with thickly spread-out canopies that block out any means of celestial navigation. There's the occasional breeze, the hiss of leaves and twigs rustling, but none of it does anything to put either of them at ease.
There is something watching him.
Daniel doesn't like being watched by things he can't watch back. Aliyah doesn't either, but she elects to say nothing about it other than to emit a low, nervous rumble in her chest. The glare of her white fur is at least highly visible even in the trees' long-cast shadows, a constant and reassuring reminder of her presence.
She stiffens for the third time in what feels like the last few minutes, prompting Daniel to do the same, but nothing confronts them, no great and terrible monstrous thing comes bowling out at them from the underbrush. For a minute Daniel's tempted to relax - as much as he can in these circumstances, anyway. But immediately after, Aliyah's ears flick up and her already dilated pupils widen even further. Daniel sucks in a tense breath and holds it. He can't hear anything.
no subject
He knows there is. He knows it. Something - beyond the range of peripheral vision, beyond what he can perceive - is behind him or above him or on some different plane, prickling at the back of his neck and chilling his lungs. It's watching him.
There are too many places to hide here and too many ways something could leap out at him. The trees are all too tall, too wrong, with thickly spread-out canopies that block out any means of celestial navigation. There's the occasional breeze, the hiss of leaves and twigs rustling, but none of it does anything to put either of them at ease.
There is something watching him.
Daniel doesn't like being watched by things he can't watch back. Aliyah doesn't either, but she elects to say nothing about it other than to emit a low, nervous rumble in her chest. The glare of her white fur is at least highly visible even in the trees' long-cast shadows, a constant and reassuring reminder of her presence.
She stiffens for the third time in what feels like the last few minutes, prompting Daniel to do the same, but nothing confronts them, no great and terrible monstrous thing comes bowling out at them from the underbrush. For a minute Daniel's tempted to relax - as much as he can in these circumstances, anyway. But immediately after, Aliyah's ears flick up and her already dilated pupils widen even further. Daniel sucks in a tense breath and holds it. He can't hear anything.
Aliyah can.
Something's coming. Possibly something bad.