Ravensblood Forest turmoil & tinfoil

NOT bad writing and never apologize!

The man that came blended well within these dark woods, being made of shades of dark brown. He emerged from the shadows and Hex started a bit, but managed to compose himself before the question reached his ears. Gold met fire as he found the other's gaze.

Nowhere in particular, he replied, shrugging. He jerked his chin toward the forest at large, and asked, Is this your place?

Too late, his nose found traces of scent markings—though he could pick out no more than one or two individuals, one of them this stranger. Setting up shop, maybe; he remembered when the Ridge's claim had been shaky—

Well, when had it not been so?

Shadow Ridge had existed upon a knife's edge, its reign tumbled sideways all too soon.