Night settled slowly over the vast woodland, bleeding from golden dusk into a hushed indigo sky speckled with cold, steady stars. The air was crisp, laced with the scent of bark, distant moss, and lingering elemental residue from the group's journey. For once, no beasts howled, let alone any corrupted beast. No flicker of hostile spiritual pressure stained the distance. It was by all signs, a safe night. If such a word could even apply to this anymore.
Gin sat with his back against a thick-barked tree wrapped in lichen, his silver-blue tail flicking idly across the soft forest floor. A faint glow shimmered around him, not from cultivation or active energy flow but simply the ambient release of natural spirit as his transformed body adjusted to its primal nature.
The camp was quiet. Fireless, as usual out of caution.
