The Heartwood until now we have seldom seen, i will go if you go with me

AW! tag is for reference - anyone is welcome :)

imrathil was never far from @Wardruna, same as winter never seemed far from the horizon. he couldn't remember much of the last time he had endured winter's bitter touch, but he remembered he hadn't liked it much. already the leaves had that burnt brown color - those that hadn't fallen dead to the ground, still clung to the trees in a sort of fitful, restless way.

imrathil felt sorry for the smaller animals, who didn't have thick fur or burrows to dig into. it had been a long time since he had seen a summer bird. for a while, squirrels and chipmunks and hares and muskrats had all furiously worked day and night to stack their wares - he had seen them in the odd hours, fumbling through litter and fern for fallen nuts or acorns. soon, he wouldn't see them, either.

for now the boy was alone in the heartwood, which seemed a fairly melancholy or unwelcoming place to imrathil. perhaps it was more the nature of the eyes which viewed it -- for imrathil was possessed of an unusually somber mood as he weaved through tall rows of bare trees.

timelines? what r thooooose

he leaves the coast full of hope and wonder, and plans to return soon — he still hasn't visited undersea yet, after all. his heart is telling him to explore inland, though, so that's what he's doing; surely there's no need to suppress his whims in paradise.
the forest is cold and somewhat lonely, but he likes it. he likes the trees, even as bare as they are. he kind of likes the snow, a little bit, even if it is really really cold. and he kind of likes the way it doesn't take him long to catch the scent of a stranger. he doesn't hesitate to follow the trail, tail swishing eagerly at the thought of another friend — or maybe another cute boy. but the sight he's met with doesn't bring either of those things to mind, and he stops dead in his tracks, a little startled. a dark male, willowy and tattered; he reminds him of someone he'd have met in the barrens. it makes his throat ache in a weird way. he takes another few steps forward and chuffs softly, tail starting to swish again. he's never been repulsed by the strays and the wretches, the filthy outcasts that apparently exist even in paradise; he is one himself at heart, no matter how clean he keeps or how far he runs. he always will be.

he was not alone as he traversed the forest, though it took the gentle chuff of a wolf to draw attention to that fact. imrathil froze - the noise generally meant a well-meaning presence, but it still didn't stop the climb of hackles that stirred along his nape.

then he remembered, those that would do him harm often did so in ambush. a cougar stalked silently, raining death from above. a bear might thunder, but you wouldn't hear its roar until it got you -- and another wolf... well.. his encounters with other wolves had usually been bloodless.

he turned carefully around, his posture unsettled but not aggressive. the author of the chuff was a decidedly feminine form, though imrathil knew immediately the shape of the boy's frame was deceptive. perhaps it was the cardinal red that flared across his body that suggested the softer sex -- imrathil exhaled his tension, his tail lowering as he saw the male held no hostility in his gaze. "oi," an old shade of ingram appeared in that voice, though imrathil wouldn't have known it. "you lost too?"