Haunted Wood Rough Around the Edges

Time of day is roughly 1400. Weather is cloudy.

Santi’s mind ticks down every second that passes. He’s so insanely bored. The sheer fact that he only laid down beside this tree for about thirty minutes and he’s already stir crazy. His muscles itch to move, run, jump–anything. So of course, he has to listen.

Standing he pads across the den area, nose sniffing to find his raven furred companion; he wants a fun, little spar. Finally catching wind of her he only has to follow it for a little bit before his ivory eyes lay upon her form. 

Trotting over to her with a more genuine, comfortable smile he tilts his chin up in acknowledgment. “Hola, chica.” He greets enthusiastically.