Walgreens pharmacy Hours Smoke rose from a discrete mound of sticks, prepared with care by Vereshin as he placed one on top of the other. The heat from the flames singed his palm, causing him to drop the final stick abruptly and retract his hand. He emitted a squeak and licked the red mark on his skin where the fire left it's remnants. Squinting in dismay, he watched the flames through the gaps between his fingers, barely struggling to breathe from beneath the twigs.
Silence pervaded the forest around Vereshin, disrupted only by the crackle of the small fire as it gasped for life. Upon raising a hand, he threw his wrist in a ferocious gesture, slamming energy into the pile of sticks and setting them ablaze. As the small nova erupted, he jumped backwards with his hand outstretched. He contained the energy emitted from the flames, coiling the life of the fire to his will and imbuing a spell. The flames stood out amidst the melancholy hues of the forest.
As Vereshin reached into the fire with the properties of the spell, he took a breath and began to sing. An exotic chant, native to his homeland and impassioned with arcane properties, dripped from his tongue at a strained pitch. He held the ends of his long, black sleeves and folded them over his exposed hands in a dance, deep in concentration. Moving his feet around the fire, he flailed slowly and threw more energy into the spell.
The orange of the flames turned a brilliant lavender. The smoke carried the effects far across the forest with the intention of drawing any unfortunate travelers into Vereshin's hovel. His voice became louder the further he immersed himself the rite. Amidst the properties cast in lyrical form, a single soul made himself conspicuous. Vereshin ceased his singing. Somebody had been drawn into his trap. If they were already near, they may have heard him singing. He paused, fixed in his stance and expecting the sound of footsteps. The seconds drew out and revealed the crack of leaves beneath feet.
"Wait! I'm not decent!" Throwing his hands in the air, Vereshin called out to the stranger as he quickly turned his head from tree to tree in attempt to see them. A few meters away from the fire, a small hut had been erected with the help of local shamans who also lived in the forest. Since arriving in Liadain, he had been avoiding populated areas unless necessary, keeping to the forest where he practiced his craft in secret. He ran inside, where the smell of death which had left behind returned to greet him.
"Oh it's just you. As he rested his hand against the long stick which made up the door frame, he relaxed his voice and spoke to the corpse of a man which was splayed neatly on the dirt floor. "Don't worry, we'll have you a new soul in no time." Vereshin said in a chipper tone. He stepped over the corpse and arrived at his soft satchel, slumped in the corner. Muttering aloud to himself, he flexed his fingers as he mulled around his thoughts for where he had left his hair oil.
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Silence pervaded the forest around Vereshin, disrupted only by the crackle of the small fire as it gasped for life. Upon raising a hand, he threw his wrist in a ferocious gesture, slamming energy into the pile of sticks and setting them ablaze. As the small nova erupted, he jumped backwards with his hand outstretched. He contained the energy emitted from the flames, coiling the life of the fire to his will and imbuing a spell. The flames stood out amidst the melancholy hues of the forest.
As Vereshin reached into the fire with the properties of the spell, he took a breath and began to sing. An exotic chant, native to his homeland and impassioned with arcane properties, dripped from his tongue at a strained pitch. He held the ends of his long, black sleeves and folded them over his exposed hands in a dance, deep in concentration. Moving his feet around the fire, he flailed slowly and threw more energy into the spell.
The orange of the flames turned a brilliant lavender. The smoke carried the effects far across the forest with the intention of drawing any unfortunate travelers into Vereshin's hovel. His voice became louder the further he immersed himself the rite. Amidst the properties cast in lyrical form, a single soul made himself conspicuous. Vereshin ceased his singing. Somebody had been drawn into his trap. If they were already near, they may have heard him singing. He paused, fixed in his stance and expecting the sound of footsteps. The seconds drew out and revealed the crack of leaves beneath feet.
"Wait! I'm not decent!" Throwing his hands in the air, Vereshin called out to the stranger as he quickly turned his head from tree to tree in attempt to see them. A few meters away from the fire, a small hut had been erected with the help of local shamans who also lived in the forest. Since arriving in Liadain, he had been avoiding populated areas unless necessary, keeping to the forest where he practiced his craft in secret. He ran inside, where the smell of death which had left behind returned to greet him.
"Oh it's just you. As he rested his hand against the long stick which made up the door frame, he relaxed his voice and spoke to the corpse of a man which was splayed neatly on the dirt floor. "Don't worry, we'll have you a new soul in no time." Vereshin said in a chipper tone. He stepped over the corpse and arrived at his soft satchel, slumped in the corner. Muttering aloud to himself, he flexed his fingers as he mulled around his thoughts for where he had left his hair oil.
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