King Elk Forest and those who chance upon it, should never step inside

Backdated a bit.

The light of the moon flickered through the trees, littering the earth in a spell of azure that seemed to be touched by some ethereal hand. The wind that brushed through the woods was one that he had known well enough in his time; the kiss of winter lingered on the last sweeping note of it. In the boughs of the trees, an owl released a mournful sound that filled the night air and grasped tightly to the little creatures that lived below. It urged a warning to remain beneath the fallen leaves and cold earth – the light above was meant for the predators.

Within the same breath as the owl's cry, a swarthy figure swept past the thick trunks of the trees. His pace was almost unnatural for how carelessly he sauntered forward. Though he belonged to the predatory folk, Sojourn did not appear as though he was hunting. Purpose and drive pushed him onward, through the tangle of brush and woodland sounds, but even the squeaks of prey nestled nearby did not stop him.

Not a hunter, but a savage gypsy.