Bramblepoint I'm turning to the rhythm of the night, I am alright

Though the group of misfits did not hold a proper claim over the berry brimmed woods, and though Rannoch did not feel particularly at home within the territory, there was still a sense of protectivness and entitlement that he felt. Whenever he was not solcializing with the others, Rannoch took the time to skirt the treeline out of sheer curiousity for whatever lingered just beyond the woods. When he was feeling up to it, and he was aching to stretch his legs, he'd go beyond the treeline and explore. But, on this night, Rannoch did not feel like exploring. Instead, he opted to stay close to home and walk along the borders. 

It was in the midst of his patrol that movement from the territory just beyond the bramble caught his attention. Perking, Rannoch halted his wandering in favor of watching the commotion, his eyes watching the shadows carefully as he felt himself tense. He would not act now and, instead, kept his attention to the field, watching the shadows dance in the moonlight.