The manor was eerily quiet as Liam and Charlotte made their way through the dimly lit corridor. The candle sconces lining the walls flickered weakly, casting shifting shadows across the walls.
Charlotte took the lead as she made use of her jaguar eyes, adjusting smoothly to the darkness. Her nose twitched softly as she sniffed the air. "This place does smell like a serial killer's manor, wood rot… stale perfume for who ever it is," she murmured. "But I'll tell you if anything out of place crosses my path."
Liam trailed behind her, less concerned with physical senses and more tuned into the subtle threads of myst woven around them. His myst perception shimmered like a spiderweb in his mind, mapping out minor magical signatures in the walls and floor. Alongside that, he made use of his nose as well as he tracked myst residues.
