Ori and the Will of the Wisps: A lively adventure in the shadow of the forest of death

Skitter. Skitter skitter. It’s time to move. Paws padding across the sand dunes, Ori scampers out from under the log, leaping up into the air and rebounding off the wall, grabbing a pole and flinging himself upward—and then movement. The owl turns its head. Ori freezes, pressed behind a scrap of fabric.

The owl looks away. Skitter skitter. Up and over this time, then leaping across a gap—mere feet from the owl’s head. If it turns around…best not to think about it. Clinging to a crumbling wooden log, Ori stops for a moment. The owl screams, frustrated it can’t find its prey. It nudges the log, to no avail.

Again, it looks away. Ori sprints towards a small cave, a place where the owl can’t follow. It was a ploy though. The owl hears him, turns, takes flight, its talons closing. Ori makes a last desperate dive for the entrance, and finds it. Burrowing into the sand, he pauses, heart racing.

Or maybe it’s my heart. Who