Neverwinter Forest my aunt used to live in Paris

Open for anyone in Neverwinter Forest!

She shot like a bullet toward the trees of Neverwinter; never had she ever been so relieved to see the tips of them, the boughs of them, the intricate patterns of their bark. Ceilidh had not intended to be away for so long; had not intended to return empy handed. She had hoped to bring back some quarry for their cache, but all she brought back was a body, banged up and scrathced, more than a little worse for wear.

At least there were no rocks in this place, no mountainsides to tumble down and crash overhead. The ground had seemed to stop shaking, too -- at least, not as violently as before. The prey, she imagined, was still all but gone.

The girl collapsed amongst the throng of the forest, once she knew she was well tucked into the safety of the trees. Mal's scent roamed heavily through the breadth of the territory and she breathed in the signs of his familiar presence. She thought she picked up traces of others here, too - their scents nearly as heavy as Mal's - and she wondered with a pique of interest if more had joined their numbers since she had left in search of better grounds for food.

Only one way to find out. With what little breath she had left, Ceilidh lent her voice to the air and called out to @Mal, or really anyone nearby, with a simple and clear message -- that she was home.