Neverwinter Forest if only the word madness would come and root back and grip on my breath

The sanctity of the forest was something he had grown familiar with in the span of months he had spent in the wilderness. It held memories that had been stirred to life the moment he had crossed beneath the heavy boughs of the evergreens, a myriad of scents to rise and fall in the wake. His ranging deviated, the paths he had cut across valley and wilderness alone unbridled; he went where he pleased, not unlike a compass unable to find north. Why the evergreen forest called him in on that particular day was beyond him, at least anything he could have thought of quickly and offhand. The long and short of it was simply Dirge avoiding action. He stalled, biding his time until it all the sand had run out the hourglass and all signs pointed to facing the music.

A part of him hoped that maybe here he would find Nyx tucked away in the growth, but so far he had not been lucky. Like his ventures, denial came when it wanted to, and it hardly mattered where he was. Instead of a pleasant stroll down memory lane on a carpet of pine needles and frost he was left with the budding bloom of frustration, a sure sense that he should have not given in to the temptation to come swinging back so close to the weald and stoke a fire better left to die.

Distraction came with a voice, a single word to punctuate the crisp air: badger.

And he, like carrion birds on high, circled in for a better look. There were sure glimpses through the timber he could steal—two wolves, an ivory mountain man and his earthy lady—but he did not bother to ascertain much more than that. He squared up from a distance, aiming to take up the middle between the pair, and opted to make himself known from behind with a shuffle of steps and a slowing pace with words fresh off his tongue.

”Badgers are such hateful things,” he said, ”the grouse here taste much better.”

hope you don't mind, i wanted to crash a thread for a change