---

The veil was so thin, so fragile, so....wrong?

Something was wrong, at least.

The storm that had been growing in the morning continued through the afternoon, the night, the rain pounding down as if it would wash away the packs that had come before so that Jakten may claim it wholly and completely.

One thing the storm couldn't erase though, was the marks high up on the trees. The claw marks of felines past would stay in the bones of the woods for decades, the bark would be shaped along the grooves for centuries. Provided no fire takes it down, at least

That was one thing Jakten couldn't erase, the other?

The dead, the buried.

The ghosts.

One particular ghost, tonight at least.

A pale figure, cloaked in a blood red mane, stalked the forest tonight. The lion of Rome, the Gilded Empire, Sem'ya, Seiiki.

The Executioner, The Sentinel, The Guardian.

He walked the trails....as if nothing was wrong, following his old paths as if he never died in the first place, as if he wasn't walking a whole new set of paths just up the mountain right this moment.

Carnifex made no sounds as he did his ghostly patrol, not like he ever did when he was alive anyway thanks to Requiem's training, but his scent drifted through the trees in a way that it shouldn't in the rain.