Fox's Glade hi welcome to dennys

@Aurëwenn
The Huntsman let his black claws pierce through the dirt under him, pressing into the world to allow him a reminder he was still there. His chest ached, throat dry and scratchy with misuse. Had he stopped praying last night, his body might have felt more shapely for his had-been journey ahead, but he felt the urge and he aimed to satisfy it.

Dennan, if that be his name, let out a huff and a puff, muscles burning. When was the last time he stopped walking? His mind burnt with vision, the sun above him doing nothing to soothe him. Every step he took pressed him on to some place he did not know. In a couple patches of the land, he smelled wolves. In others, the sting of the sea. It had been a very long time since he had such smells grace his nose, for his pilgrimage had led him through the quietest of places.

As the most familiar of scents reached his nose, The Reaper froze, tea eyes wide with surprise. He turned his head, looking out into the territory as he felt his heart leap in his chest. His lips pulled back in a twisting grin, eyelids falling. "Dear petal of mine..." And from there, he was following his nose.