Ravensblood Forest paint hell red

The thought that he had not found the man who had assaulted Dalia had left him with a bitter feeling in the pit of his stomach. Though he knew that he was needed in the bay, he wondered if the girl harbored ill feelings toward him after he had failed to hunt down the brute. Try as he might, Ford knew that it was a poor reflection of his leadership skills. On that day, he had ventured out beyond the borders of the bay and inland – to the woods. Once there, he had hunkered himself low and prowled beneath the stretching trees. Though he was not fully accustomed to the wild wood, he did not lack any predatory air.

Were it not for the figure of a stranger, the warhound would have merely passed by. Instead, the sharp coloration of a pale skull drew his mismatched gaze toward her and froze. The markings were a lesser version of his own; something he hadn't seen before. The titan paused in his steps and latched onto her frame with a modicum of interest on his features. Still, his gaze betrayed nothing of what he felt. After several long minutes, the sea wraith released a chuff from deep within his throat, and waited to see if she would turn to him.