Haunted Wood the dark between stars

absorbed in the exploration of the dark woods; tasting the sultry magicks that linger in the earth, in the depths of the trees ...roswell is not immediately aware that he was no longer alone. if he ever was. it was the first lesson of being a good mercenary: not letting one's guard down, especially outside the safety of the fen ...and the rule of thumb that fled the second that the velveteen darkness of the haunted woods cocooned him in it's embrace.

it is only when the chuff reaches out to his ears like grasping fingers that roswell is alerted to the presence of the stranger and startled he whips around; guard hairs bristling along his nape. who're you? he demands asks; usual friendliness surrendered to the prickling instinct to protect himself against strangers who were older and thus much more experienced than him.