Hisoka is just cleaning up his workshed, covering his partially constructed canoe with a tarpaulin, putting away his tools. He picks up a broom and sweeps up the wood and birchbark scraps. He opens the door and whisks the sawdust out into the long grass.
Night is falling, and he is at the edge of the forest, up a long rise from the lake. Still holding his broom, he looks off towards the water, which ripples softly under a pale round moon. Even from this distance, he can hear water lapping, and an occasional splash of a fish or a frog. He has very sharp ears.
He turns his head slowly, picking up the rustle of the pines, the squawk of a screech owl. He is not easy. It is as though he is waiting to hear other, unknown noises. The forest noises suddenly cease, as though every leaf, bird, or animal is holding its breath.
[The wolves can mess him up some. He'll fight back, of course. XD]
Night is falling, and he is at the edge of the forest, up a long rise from the lake. Still holding his broom, he looks off towards the water, which ripples softly under a pale round moon. Even from this distance, he can hear water lapping, and an occasional splash of a fish or a frog. He has very sharp ears.
He turns his head slowly, picking up the rustle of the pines, the squawk of a screech owl. He is not easy. It is as though he is waiting to hear other, unknown noises. The forest noises suddenly cease, as though every leaf, bird, or animal is holding its breath.
[The wolves can mess him up some. He'll fight back, of course. XD]
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