HUNT
Neveah blurred through the dense canopy, his form flitting between trees with practiced ease. Yet, a frustrated growl rumbled in his throat. "Tsk," he muttered, "still too slow." His crimson eyes flickered with the reflection of the setting sun as he landed on a sturdy branch, the forest floor a dizzying blur below.
Earlier that day's conversation with Verona echoed in his mind. The queen's explanation, though cryptic, had piqued his curiosity.
"What exactly are you doing?" he'd asked.
Verona, her brow furrowed in concentration as she continued her intricate work on his back, had replied, "Preparing you to use a better form of energy. Now, stay still."
"Better?" Neveah had pressed, suspicion mingling with a flicker of hope. "Does that mean you see mana as flawed?"
"Everything has flaws," Verona had conceded, "but yes, mana and aura both have more limitations."