I am walking in a forest, it is completely silent. The dim green light presses in on me, impenetrable mist swirls around my feet; I am walking in a dip that might have once been a creek. A light thud sounds in front of me, the silence thickens, and I stop.
He walks to me, he is wearing black pants and a black cloak with the hood pushed back. His muscular torso is bare, his skin, white as a bone bleached in the sun, gleams with sweat. Shoulder length black hair hangs; limp in the humidity, there is pain in his emerald eyes. He reaches out one perfect hand to me, blood drips from the corners of his mouth.
My blood.