Haunted Wood the dark between stars

attn. @Shikoba but all welcome! spiritualist thread iii.

though the morning had been clear when roswell had set out of broken antler fen to explore the neighboring territories, the sun warming along his back and guiding his path, the further into the haunted wood he traverses, the darker the world grows. roswell, unperturbed by the spinning web of darkness the haunted wood spins, the canopy's limbs braided together like the work of forest druids, he is nonetheless bridled with the shivering sort of excitement that one gets when they know they're doing something they shouldn't be.

lured deeper into the dark woods by the magic he can feel pulsing beneath the earth like a heart beat. it calls to him; whispering sweet nothings into his eager ears, coaxing him without restraint. magic hangs heavy here, in every breath, in every shivering leaf slowly turning color with the changing of seasons.

ignorant of the dark and bloodied gods that were once worshipped in the bowels of these woods; roswell marvels over the perceived strength he draws from this place, content to idle away his day here; exploring its secrets.