Cedar Sweep pick at every stitch

Heading back was no chore, but it gave him some time to think about his options, desires, and motivations. When he came to the hillside that would lead him towards Nimbus, Ambrose decided on a whim to go the other way—heading in to the Sweep where the cedar trees stood like monoliths in their old age. The scent of the splintering wood was refreshing, made more intense by the light rain that started to drizzle through the branches of the trees. There was a thin fog that had crept across the hills in the early hours, and it lingered still—probably destined to becoming a thick white soup in a matter of hours. All in all, the eerie atmosphere was made less intimidating by the vibrance of the forest around him. Ambrose liked the rain; he liked the smell of it, and the look of things when they were damp and saturated. 

This forest however, was hardly different from the previous. There were older trees here, certainly. The signs of elk were here too but less so, and as he trailed along he found himself lost in thought. The boy wasn't exactly a thoughtful or introspective sort; he preferred to work hard and let his skills speak for themselves, but lately that hadn't been enough. He judged himself to be just as skilled as his sister in many regards, better in others, and as he wandered, he wondered—why hadn't he done better? Had this all been a trick by his brother @Bruges to make him feel like shit? That, he doubted. Ambrose knew his brother was an annoying influence but he wasn't malevolent. Still, he was happy to lay the blame upon the rogue.