July 12, 2019, 02:22 PM
set at blackpine
So, fishing was harder than it looked. Between the swiftness of the fish themselves and the refractive nature of water, he found himself really struggling to perfect the craft. He wondered if hunting on land was just as difficult, and figured he might as well give it a shot (what was the worst that could happen?). Aningan abandoned the shoreline and made his way into the forest, delving into the shade as far as he could until the shadows themselves seemed to become one with the trees. For a moment, he stared in awe at the darkened treeline, only to break through the second a scent his his nose—it was faint, having passed through longer ago than what he preferred, but not a lost cause. With little more analysis of the scent aside from that, Aningan stalked off after it.