Neverwinter Forest A brilliant strategy.

The forest was so big, so intimidating, but also so beautiful that Stone was awed by it. He'd been walking in circles through the heart of the territory for a good four or five hours, baffled by the colors brought to life by slanting light, or by the shapes of old trees leaning against their neighbours, or the weird sounds of different birds - or branches - screeching on occasion. His eyes trailed through the ferns more and more frequently because, as he soon understood, there was a lot of stuff growing beneath his paws which wanted to kill him. 

For instance: he'd tripped on several roots, discovered at least one sinkhole, run nose-first in to a tree, and the most recent discovery... Crossed paths with a bushel of some sort of vine that was wrapped around a sapling, mingling between the ferns, and — most importantly — made his legs immediately itchy. Which then felt like burning. And while Stone was pretty good at ignoring the negatives, it was harder and harder as the sensation spread across his skin.

He was hitching his steps; imagine a dog wearing booties, and that's what he's doing. The ferns rustle beneath his steps and after each one, he pauses to look at his wrists, his toes, turning to reference his heel, wondering if the ferns are causing this creeping burn and if he should find somewhere else to tread; but it isn't the ferns. Its the ivy, obviously. But he keeps going, through the ferns and around the patch that'd ignited his skin, until he finds a gap among the trees where the grass feels dew-damp and cold, upon which he sploooots, rubbing his underside greedily against the vivid carpet growing there.

Its a relief — but not a lasting one.

Stone. She picked up his scent on her way back from a patrol and instantly grew irritated. She knew she had agreed to give him a second chance, but wow was it hard to forget the first impression he had made on her. She worried whether or not he would actually become a useful member of the pack, and honestly, she couldn't help but judge him based on his mistake. It was probably a little unfair since second chances usually meant that the failed first chance was forgiven, but she just couldn't get past the trespassing. 

She was still willing to at least try for now, so she followed his scent through the trees, maneuvering through the underbrush like someone who was intimately familiar with the forest. His trail was odd and led her in a strange pattern, causing her face to settle in a permanent frown. 

When she did finally find him, she couldn't help but roll her eyes, annoyance quickly filling her expression. She stopped near where he was doing whatever he was doing, and looked down at him with disapproval. What are you doing? she asked. it certainly didn't look like anything productive.