Haunted Wood what is, is what must be

@Skaro <3

The time that he had spent within the walls of the valley had been beneficial to him; Tadec was grateful that he had been able to grow closer with Indra and her family. He could not help but to be pleased with himself for having grown so much in his short while there. Despite his personal prosperity, the nimble halfling had discovered an aching feeling that had drawn him outside of the pack borders and into the open world. He had ventured across the stretching mountains and wandered deep into the meadows on the other side. It was not until he had neared the steppes that he caught sight of the stretching woodland landscape before him. The elusive moonlighter was mesmerized at the very sight. His lengthy limbs carried him toward the edge of the forest and he peered into the depths of it with a reverence he had never exhibited before.
 
Breathing deeply, the thief began to move through it. The terrain was vast and wild; trees rose up from the earth in a great call to the heavens and cast handsome shadows across the ground. Small prey scurried beneath his feet, but Tadec was not there to hunt. Each step was wrought with a wariness; surely, the wild wood would have been claimed. As he stretched himself out from one end of the forest to the next, he found the faded scent of marked borders at the caldera beside it. It seemed the edges of the neighboring land had not been marked in some time, though. Hope flooded the crow as he turned back to scour the weald, flooding with intention. It was everything he had searched for in a home and it was stretched before him. Rearing his head back, the coywolf yipped excitedly and made his way back into the depths of the woodland.

The forest harbored more than small, nimble creatures. The spider had sought the depths of shadow after being denounced by a wandering guard of the caldera pack, and he had watched from his many hidden vantages as they collectively abandoned all that they held dear. In the time between, Skaro had ventured closer and closer to the land and its fading reminders; he sought the carcass that had drawn him close in the first place and was pleased to find it somewhat intact. Over the course of many days he returned to that half buried mess to lay claim to bits and pieces - some he would toss about merrily, others that he would unearth and carry with him to the dark wood.

He had found a scapula, scattered bits of tiny vertebra, and even attempted to bring the cavernous hip along with him, but in the end abandoned that to the crows. What tiny bits he scavenged soon adorned the area which had become his roost. The trees were littered with these pale chunks of chewed bone, the soil greedy to reclaim them. The scapula he carried betwixt his teeth.

The silence in the forest was precious, but soon the voice of a cousin shattered it, rousing him from a lazy sprawl among the leaf-litter. He had propped the scapula beneath his sharp face, but now abandoned it as he scrambled to heed the call - carving an erratic path through the trees with his slim body slinking low.

A cousin, indeed, but one who was wary and watchful for signs of approaching figures. Tadec slunk carefully through the brush and foliage of the forest; his eyes were alight with pleasure at the sight of it. He imagined the woods to be a sacred and inviolable place. The trees in summer were ideal for casting shade on the forest floor and keeping the inhabitants cool. During the frigid winter months, those same trees stood as masterful sentinels against the snow. The coywolf had always been fond of the wild woods that he had wandered through, but he had never seen one quite as stunning as the one he had traipsed through on that day.
 
The sound of the approaching figure did not go over his head. Tadec turned his attention to where it had originated from and waited to see what might have found its way to the same forest. His lantern orange gaze was expectant and glinted with a wariness that had fallen into his bones. The scent of wolf was still strong in the near area, which could have meant that he had disturbed a neighboring territory to a pack. Knowing the kindness of wolves, the crow kept his head low and his watchful gaze trained to oncoming shadow.