Stone Circle Ground had arose and passed its knees

The forest was like home. The trees were thinner here though, growing in scattered groups where they rivaled the stone pillars due east of where they'd rooted. After acquainting himself with the basic topography of the claim Oiseaux moved in to the woods, fascinated by the shapes of the branches, the bouquets of pine needles or birch leaves, the slanting fade of dusk faintly glowing around the white spires of the trees. It was all so familiar—to the point that, Oiseaux had himself partially convinced his mother might step out from the shadows and welcome him to an embrace.

Affection like that had no space in her world, though. Oiseaux knew he was being silly, playing a little game in his head to pass the time, and that he was truly alone in this new place. That was alright. Being alone was not so bad—not when the stars were there to watch him. They would come out soon and if the sky remained clear, he would finally be able to study them from the comfort and safety of the woods.

With this in mind, he trailed along through the forest with his head raised. There wasn't an ounce of confidence within him regardless, and every shift of the wind through the boughs, or soft and distant call of birdsong fading in the air, made his ears fidget and eyes dart about. What came as the biggest surprise was the tendril of scent drifting between the trees; it wasn't the smell of woodchips or the soft loam beneath his paws, but sharper and—of all things—enticing.

Oiseaux followed the scent with some trepidation, emerging from the trees and pausing to look around. He thought he heard a faint thump, and turned in time to see a silhouette prowling away from him. He was nervous but equally curious, so Oiseaux slunk along after that shape—noticing the faint silver of the stranger's nape as it stood out against their deep, dark coat.