There are eyes everywhere. Human. Animal. Spirit. In any direction, one or a thousand eyes can be watching, but they don't always belong to the same host. One pair sees. Another misses. Still another sees something altogether different in the same direction. Tristan has come to rely on what other eyes have seen - or claim to have seen. And one pair of eyes described something amiss; an unusual shape lurking near a creek. Something monstrous and alien. This pair of eyes that claims to have seen? They belong to a human.
Humans lie. They concoct stories for attention. They even genuinely misinterpret what their eyes see, giving the closest approximation their minds can come up with.
But despite all this, crouching low over the creek-bed, Tristan searches. For what? For anything. For something amiss. Strange footprints, blood, discarded belongings - anything to give credence to the story he'd been told. One knee find careless purchase on wet ground, soaking through an already tarnished uniform, and Tristan curses under his breath. "Shit."This is probably a waste of time. He knows it. But if there is something out there, something that does not belong, and he lets it go unchecked...
Well, that just isn't an option.
This place certainly doesn't feel like a locus. If something has pierced through the gauntlet here, it isn't searching for a home. Perhaps it's running from something. Instinctively, Tristan smells the air. Only a sour, sulfurous odor from the creek-bed assails his Hishu nostrils.