Rune Discovery: 「 Pending success! 」 

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The atmosphere darkens as you continue your climb. Soon, the sky opens up with rain, a shadow cast upon the ground below you as the dark clouds congregate above. The rain is as cold as ice, tracing like freezing daggers against your skin. It is almost insufferable — almost painful as it bouces off of your thick fur.

You'd be tempted to go back home, except you hear something on the wind.

Drial wa, drial wa, drial wa, it whispers, that foreign voice now familiar to you. It is the same voice that spoke to you before. Eip tolk yia drat yia wire krose! The words, once unfamiliar, slowly begin to translate themselves in your ears. I told you that you were close! You hear it, yes, and your heart begins to accelerate in your chest. It is adrenaline, it is excitement ... but perhaps, too, it is fear.

The wind leads you upward, into the strange, looming shadows of the sudden storm.

You have to squint your eyes against the pain of the razor-like rain droplets. But as you correct your vision, you swear the path ahead of you is glowing. You swear that somewhere, up around the bend of this very hill, you can see a glowing snowbank. It is a strange beacon of light against the darkness of the sky around you, and it radiates with an otherworldly energy.

Yes. You know what you must do. Do not give up now! You are here. The voice floats around you, as if embedded into the heart of the storm itself.

And then it disappears, leaving you with the path. Do you venture into the storm, or do you run away?

Skill: Ranger [1/5]

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Lugh glanced back at his brother before frowning and shaking his head. I don't even know what we're lookin' for, Shiloh... you're bein' weird. He muttered. Rocks... weird rocks. There weren't any weird rocks, everything was normal—besides that feeling, that fire that was ignited by that voice.

Rain began to cascade from the skies—only, it hurt. Lugh shuffled closer to his brother with a frown. I'm not likin' this... he mumbled. It hurts... Any other occasion, Lugh would've begged to go home, or to seek shelter; the water droplets sliced along his back, drawing out a small whine. Wha's happenin'?

The voice spoke again—soft murmurings of gibberish. Lugh grunted in frustration, frowning at the sky—until finally, the words were morphed into a shape he could comprehend—'I told you that you were close!' ...had it? Lugh didn't even know. His glare lifted into curiosity.

He walked in tandem with the boisterous winds, eyes squinting against the rain. Why was he doing this? Why didn't he just go home? Her certainly wanted to. Yet... the desire to leave was overpowered by the need to understand what lay beyond the horizon, what the voice so desperately wanted him to find.

There was something supernatural lacing the air like fog. Intertwining with his fur, sending it bristling along his spine. Down the hill, there was a small glow. Not the luster of fireflies—a beacon. A signal. 'Yes. You know what you must do. Do not give up now! You are here.' Lugh nodded to whatever spirit was with them.

Shiloh—over here! He called out. The boy did not wait for the elder brother before he began to race down the hill, still wincing against the rain whipping his skin raw.

But that glow... he had to see it.

Rune Discovery:  「 Success! 」 Shiloh Lugh 

---

You brave the storm. Of course you do.
Each step is heavier than the last, your limbs trembling, not only from exhaustion, but from something deeper—a sense of the rune's energy thrumming through the ground. The Dream Visitor’s voice has vanished, but their urgency still circulating in your mind, fueling you to keep going. Don’t stop.

Don’t give in.

The glowing snow pile can be spotted from up the hill, faintly at first, like the flicker of a candle, then brighter, and more demanding..

closer. Closer. Closer.

And then…

The wind dies.

Not just softens or fades, it dies

The silence is instant, even the rain slows, no longer battering, but misting gently. The sky above still churns with blackened clouds, but they no longer move. The storm is not over, no, you stand within its eye, an eerie calmness entrapping you.

It is here, nestled within the snow drift, half-buried in frost, you see it.

The rune.

It is not large or grand, it’s just a single, engraved stone, no bigger than your paw. But its glow is alive, with veins of blue winding across its surface in slow, repetitive pulses.

The moment you touch it, reality shifts: the storm breaks. Just like that,wind moves, and the clouds begin to scatter, revealing a soft blue sky.