Larksong Grotto Sometimes, with great luck, he will succeed.

The forest was silent. He did not know the name of it, but if he had, Larus would have found it remarkably absent of its namesake birdsong; there was nothing here at all except a few squirrels that ran pell-mell away from him as he crossed between the trees; he had not thought to chase them, although his hunger had grown again and his brain pounded with a dull, unending ache.

He had found himself sequestered on more than one occasion within the woods here—and then more recently, touring a series of caves in search of something to drink. There was a pool of stagnant water deep within one of the grotto tunnels and when he drank from it, carefully at first and then with dire need, he noticed a strong metallic flavor that was unsettling; thankfully Larus could not retain that information for long, and soon forgot.

He moved ahead as the days progressed but never did he leave the grotto, lingering for days on end within the woods that shrouded the heart of the territory. Then, when the quaking earth awoke for a new wave of chaos, he drifted to one of the plateaus along the western limit, watching as the trees swayed and some came crashing to the earth, booming in the distance as they were felled.