Ravensblood Forest oh i don't pay for suits

*innocent whistling*

In quite a rare moment of abysmal irritation, Furiosa took a washing dip. It was much too quick of an event for her to have achieved any deep cleaning, but she looked her more natural shade— an all-consuming bland frost— and she had achieved her purpose behind the bath which was to drown her fleas. The absence of nagging itches beneath her fur put the pallid wretch in a singularly better mood, which was probably for the best as she came across Arturo in the early morning hours. She remembered him from the hunt several days prior, and of course from his imperial plans to claim these woods. Furiosa realized she probably shouldn't hang around if she wasn't going to pledge to him. "Getting started already?" she purred, sauntering casually until she had come to stand at his earthy shoulder. "What're you calling this place again?"