Redhawk Caldera Ever get the feeling that you're never all alone?

He hadn't meant to roam this far from the woods, from Maegi, from the safety of the shadows, but as night began to fall across the land Titmouse was creeping westward. The goal was to find something to gift to his love. Something substantial — a filling meal, a few poppy seeds so that they could be certain the red flowers persisted, a skull maybe, something; he'd managed to make it to Bramblepoint as the air began to cool. The sky was streaked with aubergine, not that he'd look away from his path for long.

Before he knew it, Titmouse was striding across the would-be boundary of the caldera. The last time he had been here it had been just as empty, yet now — as he took stock of his surroundings — the rolling hills and jagged cliffs looked just as forlorn and forgotten as Maegi's woods. He was understandably cautious as he slipped along his route, finding that the paths here were not as weed-choked as Blackfeather, and he only paused when he came upon the familiar sight of the old den.

It had partially caved in when he was a babe (or so he had been told, once), and now looked to have collapsed entirely. He nosed about the dirt for a few moments before a crackling in the trees awoke his desire to hunt again, and then he began to stalk towards the whispering trees.