Emberwood that a single man in possession of a good fortune

*sneaks in?!?*

It had been the peculiar glow in the foggy air that had drawn him in. Though upon a closer inspection, Roach realized it wasn't some sort of scenery that was aglow by some magical light, but rather the vibrancy of the forest that still fought to keep its canopies so late into the winter. Like a moth to flame, he had come closer and closer to it before breaching over into the territory formally. His thin frame paused only once to tremble; an icy chill to follow a breeze gave him reason to keep pressing on. It had been days since he had come across another, but given the vastness of the world, such had been typical and like his mother had always told him, he had the best of both worlds.

Now, Roach wasn't so sure about that. For as much as he could trek about on his own, he found the nagging urge to stumble across someone else drove him to follow their trails. Yet when he had drawn near to larger groups he shied away, acting very much like the solitary creature half his kind was wont to be. It had been difficult to find somewhere to mesh into or with, but life as a young dispersal was like that.

And here in the depths of this wood, he found that he thought he was entirely alone again. His crossing through the territory was everything but silent — he felt there was no need. He wasn't hunting, wasn't tracking, and certainly hadn't happened upon what he thought were fresh trails in hours. All in all, Roach believed he was alone.