Ravensblood Forest hippity-hop, all the way to the birdie boiler

@Caiaphas and maaaybe her little nuisance friend @Bartok ?

There was no food to be had upon the ridge from his estimation, so Anselm dove onwards - heading south at first, but inevitably trundling along towards the coast. The trees gave way to more trees, different ones, and the stench of pine rose up around him. A brief rain dampened his spine, but for the most part the wandering cloud was sheltered. The trees, numerous and clustered as they were, grew dense enough to keep the forest floor dry while permitting him access. By this point Anselm was quite tired. His fat reserves were starting to decline and thus, he had taken on a more roguish appearance than what was considered normal; his bulk having been depleted during his great journey. For now, he rested among the cedars, and nosed about the roots of a few errant pines.