Lost Creek Hollow i'm out of the game

set sometime before this thread.

if the towering trees of the shrouded wood are the pillars of a cathedral's hall then joaquin is the devil passing thru the sacrosanct ground; hallowed. or falsely hallowed ground. no fires of heaven set him alight. the obsidian and smoke dappled st. clair moves with purpose to each long-legged stride he makes, seeking shelter from the rain in the dense emerald canopy above. in the thick of the hollow, following the serpentine twists of the creek, careful not to misstep on the rocks slick with rain and creek moss varying in shades of green and brown. above the leaves of the sentinel trees collect the shield him from the worst of the rain, the soft pitterpatter along with the soft gurgling of the creek as it follows it time carved path a lullaby of nature.