Ravensblood Forest mexican grand prix

No problem! Hope you don't mind me having him spotted swiftly, I couldn't miss the sore thumb remark in your post lmao.

Being in the woods brought her a sense of comfort that had been eluding her. Why it was in there that she felt comfortable was beyond her. Tartok's home in the far north did not boast nice forests like these. It was a barren tundra, ridged and pockmarked by erosion and more than a few centuries of earthen upheaval. Mountainous. She could draw up the memories of home easily, but chose not to. The past was very much in the past and that was an area she did not hold much interest in. She didn't put a lot of memory into remembering either, because it had been a trip and a half to come back to the wilderness she had found herself in. It had seemed so much easier when Tonravik had been with her, but Tonravik had always known the way. Not that she had known that.

Towards one particular dark grove, Echelon felt the unnerving sensation that she may have gone too far into the woods. It had become much more like close quarters of evergreens, stifling out the snow that lazily broke its way through the boughs. But it was more than just a sense of claustrophobia — which she didn't have — but just what? The feeling was indescribable to her, something new and yet familiar. It took her perhaps several moments too long, but she became aware that it was the feeling of being watched. She went on high alert quickly, blue eyes scanning through the woodland the best she could see. A test of the air only returned to her the pine and sticky tinges of sap, leaving her to mentally curse the damp. In a slow turn, she spotted the source of her unnerved awareness... and he was close by.

All she could offer him though was a not amused stare; the unspoken request for an explanation.