Deepwood Weald you waiting at ho[m]e for me saying what time do you call this?

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Despite that Arturo did not venture too far from Ravensblood Forest he found his legs carrying him past Blackrock Depths, towards the towering trees of The Sentinel. He had spoken to Furiosa of his small trip and that he intended to be back within the night. He had faith that his red herring would hold down the fort in his brief absence. He informed Chusi as well though if she had heard his words when he'd woken her up or not went unknown to the Fearghal monarch as he had cut through the Gyrfalcon Keep and the Honeyed Pasture. He drew nearer to The Sentinels and cut off into the Deepwood Weald, his pace slowing as he shrugged into the tangled mess of red and green ferns that brushed against his long legs. The trees were thin and stretched tall, their limbs spindly where a glimpse upwards told him they tangled together allowing the golden rays of the sun to filter to the ground under foot in distorting angles.

He had cut through the Weald only once before when he'd reached the Ravenshook Cliffs and had taken his fall from them, but Arturo did not wish to remember that time and thus blocked it from his mind. Ceannasach knew why he'd came this way, why he lingered near to Donnelaith. A very small part of the trip was unselfish, seeking to find a safe path for Chusi to follow when she decided she want to visit the lovely bard. Or rather, the lovely mummer for she had divulged her true identity to him. His invitation to her was an open one but it was not fair to constantly expect her to make the trip to Teaghlaigh. With his claim strong and growing stronger with each recruit he rallied to his cause he felt confident enough to travel further than just the immediate territories surrounding Ravensblood Forest.

He thought of @Lotte often; but with mentoring Chusi and her “father” reappearing in the picture and all the work Teaghlaigh required of him (which he did happily) the gangster had let it fester until he could stand it no more. He desired to see her again, to steal a few hours of her time and cherish them as if it were a dying wish granted. Though he could smell Donnelaith's borders a good number of miles away favoring the heart of the eerie Weald he maintained the distance. He did not call for her. He realized that without his summon she would have no way of knowing he was there, waiting, hoping, but he was not aware who all knew of her true identity and though he could have easily called for Kitku he found that he much preferred her as Lotte. Even if the gangster's wishes were left unfulfilled it would not be an entirely unsuccessful trip — he, at the very least, had a relatively safe route mapped out for Chusi to use at her leisure now; though he would stick resolutely to his condition: she would go with a Guard until she had more warrior experience under her belt.

With a deep breath Arturo took a moment's pause to survey the strange woodland he found himself in, making mental comparisons to it and Ravensblood Forests, wondering if there were native Teekon legends about the Weald as well.

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