Shadowwyn Moor you had your maps drawn

The log itself was not a thing of beauty; battered and rotten in many a place, an ugly flower in a field of gold so to say. The Brandt continued to peer on in, nostrils flaring as scents of must and pine overrode what else might've lurked in the depths. The golden leviathan would not be fazed by much, only a few fair things that she kept carefully guarded would set her heart a-racing and so, with an almighty shove, the broke through the dirt guardian and gingerly stepped within its wooden shadows.

Worms and beetles alike littered the floor of the trunk as she crawled towards the darkest end and she snapped them up with a few swift laps. Truthfully the texture was awful, but nobody would say no to a free meal, bugs or not. Her tongue left the shelter of her mouth to wet her nose, heightening the rich odours that trickled in through the rare gaps in the hardy bark. One in particular caught the attention of the former Capo, it's sharpness and clarity masked only by the dank confines of her makeshift shelter.

A gentle chuff of greeting was the only thing she released to the moors, pointed snout alive as her front half emerged from the shade. The stranger seemed to be skulking, perhaps heading home due to the cooling weather and the pressing dark yet his steps looked dishonest and wavering. Whatever his response would be, she knew bodies didn't lie. "What is bothering you?" she'd state, her tone flat and demanding as her own figure remained half covered.