Mikhail stood at the edge of the crumbling cliff, the wind tugging playfully at his pink hair. He tilted his head slightly, his sharp eyes narrowing as he stared at the forest stretched out below — a vast sea of green that ran until it kissed the stone towers of a distant town.
Finally.
A crooked grin split his face, excitement crackling in his veins like wildfire. "Finally, a town," he breathed out, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet.
Beside him, Medusa crossed her arms over her chest, her scarlet hair whipping around her face like a living flame. She squinted at the view, unimpressed. "We are one step closer," she said stiffly, voice low and flat.
Mikhail laughed under his breath. "You sound thrilled."
Medusa just growled under her breath, her golden rod thudding lightly against the ground as she shifted her weight. "This is stupid," she muttered. "Town after town, rumor after rumor — chasing ghosts. There's no guarantee he's even here!"
