Ravensblood Forest Yer family tree is a wreath

shamelessly presents my partial inspiration when creating farren..

Even as winter clutched the wilds, the forest provided. Murkwood's caches were stacked to the brim with meat from their past hunt and fish from the river nearby - enough to feed the growing crew and more. The captain had, for lack of better words, grown used to a full belly. As his confidence grew, so did his greed, and while some may have turned soft the moment things became easy, Noxir instead wished to sink his teeth into more.

He itched for something exciting beyond the shadows of the trees, and while he wished not to throw his seamen into a raid without a scout, there remained something intriguing about the territories unclaimed. Purpose drew him into a lope towards the northwestern border, until a voice broke his pace and he shuddered to a halt. 

At first he thought it the noise of the wind through the old sequoias but there it came again - achingly familiar and urging him to investigate. Her figure was not hard to miss. "Farren?" the words stuck to his throat in disbelief and emotion. "Well blow me down and feed me to tha' fishes, what are ye doin' here?"