[You are immune to Fear effects and hallucinations.]
A thud. Ludwig turned.
The hunter was on his knees, his hands clawing at his throat. His eyes bulged, the whites visible all around his irises, his mouth working soundlessly. Tears streamed down his face, cutting tracks through the grime. When he finally managed to speak, the word was a sob:
"I-It... hurts—!"
His body convulsed. Then, like a marionette with its strings cut, he collapsed.
Ludwig stared down at him, then at the forest beyond. The trees were breathing, their trunks expanding and contracting like the ribs of some great beast. The vines pulsed in time, their thorns glistening with something too thick to be sap. And beneath it all, beneath the creaking wood and the shuddering earth, was the sound of something approaching.
The howl still echoed through the forest when the first of them emerged from the trees.
Not one. Not two.
Dozens. Perturbants, and infected…
