Deepwood Weald And we all love to sing along

While there was much to be seen on the Plateau, Simbelmyne had eyed the dark forest as they travelled, finding something familiar about the tall conifers that reminded her of her birthplace. She was adept at hunting in woodlands- and sought to prove herself a worthwhile guest of Moontide by bringing back a gift. 

Even at mid day, it was relatively dim in the forest. New ferns had begun to grow and unfurled as the sun beamed down, spotting the forest floor with patches of light. Simbelmyne moved carefully, knowing that until the ferns had grown, she would have less cover now that the snow was gone.

The loamy earth smelled good; cedar perfumed the air, and moss gave it an earthy tone that made the forest seem old and wise. Her lashes fluttered as she opened her eyes again, and began to search for scents.