Neverwinter Forest There's no luck except where there's discipline

AW <3

It was peaceful here in the forest. Dimly lit, the scarce spring sun seldom peeking through the conifers. . .but peaceful. Faolán felt this great calm overcoming his senses as he quietly padded through the woods, and he closed his orange eyes for a split second, filled with bliss.

His father had taught him to fight, to hunt, to be assertive, but he had also taught Faolán the gentler things in life. How to be in tune with nature. How to make the best of a bad situation. "Is féidir leat teacht i gcónaí solas sa dorchadas." Neverwinter's pack of wolves was hungry, with young pups and more on the way. Yet Faolán could see small bits of greenery on the forest floor beginning to sprout, replacing the plants that had been destroyed by the bugs. There. There was that light. And in this place, this quiet, almost sacred place, true peace could be found. The herds would return. They would survive.

"Thig an nathair as an toll
Là donn Brìde,
Ged robh trì troighean dhen t-sneachd
Air leac an làir."

The words slipped from his lips before he even realized they came, and Faolán's fur stood on end at the sound of them. He had not prayed to his family's gods since he had left Moraine Lake. . .yet, somehow, the prayer seemed appropriate at this time, in this place. While it was an invocation made normally in mid-winter, where there was no life to be found, Faolán found it fitting for his locust-devastated surroundings. His orange eyes fixed on the green sapling in front of him. "An nathair," he whispered softly, and moved along, careful not to trod on the small baby plant.

The smell of prey caught his nostrils, strong and pungent, and he lowered his black body to the crowd, scanning his surroundings for the source of the scent. That source happened to be a tiny brown shrew, scuttling around in some fallen branches and rooting its nose around in the dirt, probably searching for insects to eat. Not knowing it, itself, could be a meal here in a few seconds.

"Hello, there," Faolán chuckled, his voice barely louder than a breath, and pounced.