The darkness created after the setting sun gave Damon an edge; a shame this advantage was not shared by his allies, with the exception of the lunar moth dred, who rose with the night much like Damon.
His shadow perception was stronger at night thanks to the depth of the shadows and the limited light. It was different from the day since his perception worked best with shadows, and unfortunately, these hills didn't have many shadows.
He squeezed the Staff of carnage in his hand; this would only be useful if he used it right…
A shadow slid back beneath Damon's feet as he watched the trail of smoke, mingled with the scent of burning spices, rise into the night.
It would take some time before their scent could be properly tracked.
His shadow—Ghost—slid beside him. Technically, Ghost was a shadow of a shadow. A mouthful, really. It had been created by Matia, but after that action, she had become weak and unresponsive. So far, Damon couldn't summon her again for combat.
