Chimera Fields Until you step into the unknown, you don’t know what you’re made of

hope you don't me & a wild mato!

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Mato grows bolder and takes to territories out of the immediate vicinity of Broken Antler Fen. The worry that he might meet reprimand are briefly considered but he does not focus upon them largely. He knows the way back home and swears to himself he will return home promptly when he has finished exploring. The heath grass sways idly on the soft breeze, tickling against his elbows and hocks as he wades through it careful not to trample. It is not entirely avoidable, of course, but the druid gives his best attempt nevertheless. It bows beneath him and underfoot as he surpasses it to what he can only describe as a scar of the land. These Fields are a true wonder, he thinks as he moves so he can study the odd phenomenon before him. One half is filled with life and the other is desolate. It is a marvel, he thinks as he cast his gaze between the two faced territory. His attention is drawn from the inspection of the chimeric marvel before him as the sound of a light giggle carries upon the breeze. His ears splay to the side of his crown before they smooth back to rest at half mast atop his skull as his verdant gaze studies the tall heath grasses when he just barely catches them rustle in a manner that is unnatural for the breeze and a fleeing shape takes a canid shape. A low chuff spills forth betwixt the powerful druid’s lips as he aims to draw attention to — if nothing else — his presence to avoid startling her.

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