Deepwood Weald cross straight lines going where the wind blows

@Deirdre

He could barely discern between each of the different forests his travels took him through. To him, they were all just a mess of spindly trees and haphazard branches, each and every one stripped of leaves and missing all the greenery that made forests so pleasant. This one was no different. He picked his way slowly through the dead ferns and broken branches that littered the floor, searching for any sign of food. Or his family. He had no idea which one took higher priority.

It was early morning and a light fog had settled just above the ground, making navigating the forest even more difficult. Usually Remmy revelled in quiet, but this particular silence was near deafening and certainly eerie. He kept his footfalls light, breathing ever so softly, the feeling of being watched growing stronger as he unknowingly wandered further towards pack territory.