The loggers dropped their chainsaws. Silas raised the sky-stone, and a beam of null-light shot out, turning ferns to gray dust. Kendra didn't dodge. She re-directed . With a twist of her lithe body, she kicked a fallen log into the beam's path. The wood didn't burn; it ceased to exist, but the distraction was enough.
Kendra, still half-human, watched from the ferns as the foreman, a brutish man named Silas, held the shard. Where it touched his skin, his veins turned black. He grinned, not with his own malice, but with the emptiness of the thing he now served. kendra sunderland vixen
The old-growth forest of Black Hollow was a cathedral of shadows, and Kendra Sunderland was its unwilling acolyte. To the loggers in the valley, she was a myth—a flash of russet fur and amber eyes that led their work crews in maddening circles. They called her the Vixen, and they cursed her name whenever their compasses spun wild. The loggers dropped their chainsaws
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