"Sigh… only "they" know what kind of being that man is."
The Clown sighed softly and jumped down from the tree, landing without a sound.
"I should get going," he muttered to himself.
With a lazy motion, he snapped his fingers, and the space in front of him began to twist and bend like ripples on water.
But just as the space was about to tear open, he stopped.
His hand froze mid-air, and his sharp eyes turned behind him.
Something was wrong.
He could feel it, an overwhelming presence coming from far away, heavy and sharp like a blade pressing against his skin.
A small smile formed on his lips.
"So you finally decided to show up, huh?" he whispered.
Moments later, a powerful gust of wind swept through the forest as a figure shot across the sky, flying straight toward him.
The figure stopped about a hundred feet away, floating in the air.
The figure was that of an old man.
