Blackfeather Woods talia

open, of c, to any, but taggin' @Maegi for visibility >:3c

upon returning to the teekons, the first thing she'd done is head to the old island, to see what, if anything, remained of undersea. the answer -- nothing -- stung, but did not surprise her. wherever coelacanth and the children got to, she can only hope they're happy. her own mother's absence does not hurt the same--her family had been unhappily doomed since her birth, and though part of her wonders where hemlock has gone, it is a small and easily ignored part.

time outside the teekons has done reed well, it seems. she's grown long and lean, her youthful arrogance settled into, at least externally, a more cool confidence. she'd wandered down the coast until she'd grown tired of the sickening waves of nostalgia, and turned inward: so no one she knows is here, still. so what! she'd make her own way again. that is the gift the witch had given her (not that she'd ever learned her name, despite having studied under her for the better part of a year, and shared her den for months besides). she'd find lodgings--she's never been one for the lifestyle of a loner--she'd make herself useful with her skills. company would be a perk.

the grim, foreboding forest does not seem the most sensible choice, yet she finds herself drawn, curiously, to it, to the chattering of ravens. buried in the border-markings is a scent she recognizes, though she cannot exactly place it. raising her head, reed sends out a quick call. if she's going to throw her lot in randomly, it might as well be with a group with a sense of style.