Descent
Alastor gawked, eyes wildly darting around the area for his mate, her scent lingering teasingly until he found her.
This time, she was noticeably closer to the nymphs, startling some of them when she seemed to pop right out into existence but she paid the commotion she just caused no heed, her gaze on a fire nymph–no, Alastor immediately corrected himself, it was an empousa–and his mate was poised, moving with a stance that he belatedly realized she was aiming to kill.
His mate never blinked, never tore her eyes off of the empousa who was staring right back at her like a deer in the headlights as she faded again into the shadows, causing the nymphs to let out a collective shriek.