Aish of a Grey Lion: A Storm-Dance Short Story (part 1 of 2)
The sharp scent of pine a stab through her nostrils, Niobe kept her eyes on her target as she wound her way through the trees. Uneven ground lent itself poor to graceful movement, but Niobe had the uncanny knack of keeping her shoulders level even as her feet crept across the fallen logs and moss-covered rocks beneath the underbrush. There, only twenty paces ahead and to the right was the soticheij, the monster that once was a man. Back to her,