Blackfeather Woods I cover my wheels in flames

Set at Wispmother’s Grotto.
Edit; Open to anyone.

Adjusting to his new home had not been a difficult task. If anything, it’d been easy. He liked the woods, perhaps even more than he’d ever liked the valley. There was a sort of comfort he gained from being in the shade constantly, and it also prevented any stress from being placed upon his queer eyes. The only issue he’d encountered thus far was the fact that it was so different from the place he’d spent pretty much his entire life in. The darkness was something he could live with, there was no problem there, but the land itself was strange. Certain areas held a scent he’d never smelled in Bearclaw, and the water he’d been able to find so far was murky and undrinkable. Never had he’d seen a swamp in his old home, and so he had no idea what to expect from it. He didn’t yet understand how dangerous it could be, nor did he have the slightest clue that it was the cause of the smell, and not some rotting carcass within it. It made the child somewhat interested.
 
Treading through the woods, Alexander soon found himself entering an area in which the stench of the swamp water was exceptionally potent. As he progressed, the smell began to make his eyes water, and so he turned and veered off into another direction. Here and there, as he’d pulled his paws from the mud, he’d hear a suction-like noise. It annoyed him, like it would most, as did the fact that he’d become rather filthy. Huffing, he tried to move faster, wanting to find a place to wash off at, but his attention was drawn elsewhere before he’d had the chance to. There, a short distance away, hovered a flurry of blue light. Xan stood still, staring at it. He watched it float and dawdle in the air, before taking off and disappearing. Seconds later, it was replaced by a new one, earning it the albino’s curiosity. Taking a few steps towards them, he observed their movements, trying to figure out what they were. Could he eat them? No, probably not. But if not food, then what were they? The Inuit wanted to know.

Only fools entered the Wispmother's Grotto without knowing what they were doing. Safely in the trees, Hugin had never had any toubles, but did enjoy watching those that did not know meet their fate in these dark lands. Nothing to worry about for adults, but as he watched a white pup go through it, he followed, intrigued and malevolently satisfied by any distress it might cause in the young soul. Oh he was not going to let it die, that could be bad for his affairs, but he did enjoy a good show of youth discovering. Flying closer, he watched the boy with his dark eyes, not yet giving away that he was creeping on the boy.

Queer eyes moved from one wisp to the next, intrigued by the strange phenomenon. What it was that caused the flickering balls of light to appear and disappear was a mystery to him, and yet that did not frustrate him. He was not dissatisfied by the unknown, but drawn to it instead. He wanted to catch one of the spherical oddities, but every time he drew close enough, it’d vanished into thin air. Still, he was level-headed throughout the whole ordeal, his usual temper having somehow been locked away for the time being. Not even the murky waters and thick mud of the swamplands could sour his mood—though, in the back of his mind, he was aware of all the grime making itself at home on his body. Being a borderline clean-freak, it did strike a nerve with him, but it was not enough to have him backtracking. There was something before him that was worth learning about, and he would not pass the opportunity up just because of a little mud.

Eventually, the mud grew far too thick, not allowing for him to move properly. Realizing he would no longer be able to go forward, he backed up a short ways and then headed east, following what few balls of gas had strayed from the rest. A miasma of the swamps various stenches surrounded him, yet he was still unable to figure out exactly what made the wisps possible. Never had he been taught of the gases within a swamp, thus he could not use any prior knowledge to clue himself in. Such ideas were lost on him, having never entered his cranium in the first place, but that was nothing worth getting worked up over. Something that was worth some minor fretting, however, was the chill that ran down the boy’s spine, induced by the feeling of unknown eyes lingering on his form. It was the “sixth sense” that nearly everyone possessed, the thing that made one turn to meet the stare of another from across the room. The feeling brought Xan to a standstill as he twisted his head around in an attempt to get a glance at the culprit. His optics had to have trailed over every visible surface, but there was no one to be seen. Some birds lingered over head, he’d heard their bothersome squawking long before entering the grotto, but didn’t give them the time of day. While he understood different species were capable of forming mutualistic relationships, he didn’t bother to consider the fact that the wolves of the woods might have done so with the birds that inhabited the canopies.

Slowly, he shrugged his shoulders, dismissing the feeling as nothing worthy of further investigations. Refocusing on his surroundings, he scanned the area in search of the wisps, but was unable to spot them again for the first few seconds. Frowning, he had then carried on, which proved to be the smart choice as the feathery spheres were once more revealed to him. Continuing on with his previous task of following the pale apparitions, the feeling that had raked through his body only moments prior was cast out of his mind.