It's late, and as usual, Shun is too restless to stay in the confines of his temple. The need to patrol, to be aware and know what's happening at all times, is too deeply ingrained from his time on the battlefield, and it's one habit he hasn't at all been trying to break. So it is that he finds himself walking the Far Shore for what feels like the hundredth time since he came here, even if it's only been a month, almost exactly. It doesn't feel like it's been that long, but enough has been happening to keep things unexpected, and not necessarily in a good way.

The first sense of being watched comes with a faint prickle at the back of Shun's neck, and he immediately pauses, eyes moving across every point in his vision in a second before he turns and gives the same sweeping glare behind him. His entire bearing is wary and prepared, and when he speaks, it's in a low, dangerous tone.

"Whoever the hell you are, if you think I'm going to let myself be hunted, think again."

Being pursued by any enemy is tantamount to being hunted these days, to him, but the point is the same - he's not going to stand here and let himself fall prey. Even as he stands alert and ready, his golden eyes continue moving, seeking out any signs of motion in the darkness.