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11 Out, In the Woods

The sun was about to rise.

As a bloodhunt, it was the bane of Maxill.

Though he was highly tolerant of sunlight, in the back of his mind, he seemed to regret the decision to join them as he was at risk of exposure.

He knew he was half-blood, but he was aware that he wasn’t immune. Getting near the big ball of fire would be detrimental to his health.

He was quite annoyed at this fact. He felt it was very restricting for his lifestyle of wandering alone. He cannot shapeshift and fly at midday.

Thankfully, Juste and Chastine decided to travel through the woods. The thickets can serve as cover for his skin.

Still, the excursion was posing such a challenge for Maxill. Rays have passed through the holes of the foliage over them.

Maxill was wearing a black long-sleeved cloak, the typical go-to color of bloodhunts. It looked medieval, but it fitted his features.

Adjusting his cloak, he half-joked to Chastine, “D*mn, I should have gotten a mask at least before we left the village.”

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