Hushed Willows The nightmare scenario has happened.

Pepper hadn't realized how early it was in the day, or else she would've been a bit more collected in her advances. It felt like she'd been up for hours already. The sunlight was just beginning to creep through the willows, giving the dense forest a subtle glow, and there weren't any bodies milling about. Someone was probably doing a patrol already, but from what Pepper could gather, it was all calm and well on the homefront.

That is, until she spotted the dark figure of Stark, and cast him a curious look — he was disheveled, which by itself wasn't so strange. He moved slowly as if he were injured or fatigued, and his head was downcast, all of which made the woman begin to worry. She crept up behind him thinking that her approach was obvious, but as she neared him - and touched his shoudler with her snout - she realized just how out-of-sorts he was.

This couldn't be good. Pepper had never seen him in such a dejected state before.

What is it? She quietly intoned, and her features contorted with a small frown.