The evening air in the Eastern Zone had shifted from a cool breeze to a heavy, damp stillness that seemed to cling to the matte-black scales of Sol's cloak. And slowly the forest was coming alive with the sound of his own leisure, Sol moved through the undergrowth, his mind still savoring the echoes of Seluna's fuming rage and Vurok's final moments and his body humming with the soul power of the Striders and Dagger-Mouths. He felt invincible, the king of the jungle.
He was halfway through a jaunty, dark whistle when he stopped.
He looked at a cluster of bioluminescent, purple-capped mushrooms clinging to the base of a gnarled tree that he didn't recognize from his previous explorations. Then, he looked at a rock formation that looked suspiciously like a crouching beast. He turned in a slow, 360-degree circle, his eyes scanning the silhouettes of familiar looking trees, but they all seemed to be wearing the same mocking, silent expressions.
