The Heartwood all we can do is try.

So, it turned out that Neverwinter Forest wasn't haunted, as much hope as the very name of the place had given her. Fin wandered along the edge of the Whitefish, peering across the churning river at the tall trees across the way. From what she had learned from packmates, this forest was called the Heartwood. It didn't sound to her like this was going to be the sort of place she had dreamed of; a place where she would spend a night of fun and horror, chasing the ghosts of lives long past.

The sun was nearly gone past the horizon as Fin settled down on her haunches upon the edge of a tree trunk that had long ago fallen and created a causeway across the river to the quiet Wood beyond. A frown twisted across her muzzle, pulling her lips back almost enough to show her teeth. There didn't seem to be anything haunted about the thick umber stalks and surrounding lively sage and emerald foliage that surrounded them, but maybe she was being too critical. It wouldn't be the first time she had been surprised by something unexpected.

So, she turned her gaze to the West, watching patiently as the last rays of the sun disappeared, taking with them every speck of light that would otherwise disrupt the complete black she so desperately desired for an evening such as this.

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