Elian's POV
*****
The moment the sky craft touched down on the refugee camp grounds, his eyes dimmed. Smoke and the familiar scent of blood clung to the night air.
People screamed, running anywhere they could for safety. Guards yelled frantic orders, most of them falling on deaf ears. The lights from spells and laser guns sparked erratically throughout the campgrounds.
Elian's fingers tightened around the railing of the craft ramp. "Gods below…" his eyes scanned through the smoke. All of a sudden, he felt something tug at his senses.
Okay, not exactly a 'tug'. More like a flicker, a signal of its existence. A presence he got the urge to search for. So when his eyes locked with those of a man standing close to a tent far ahead… he blinked with a frown.
The man's gaze met his as well, something he couldn't name glinting in his eyes. Dull yellow blazer. Golden brown skin. There wasn't anything peculiar about this person.
Yet… he felt so familiar…
