Night had blackened so utterly it was impossible for Hevne to see anything down there - it was difficult to make out even the movement of her hand before her face. This shadowed blindness disturbed her, a feeling she fought as she focused on listening.
But it seemed this omnipotent darkness had also commanded everything to silence. The wind had died, the air motionless: it carried with it no sound. There were no telltale sounds of her trackers, or of Darion.
Only the sweet smell of the grass rose to her as she lay unmoving, pondering one obvious choice.