Deepwood Weald 'cause you'll never find the answers

thread with @Moira !

Marruz's slender skeleton surfed in serpentine strides the inky expanse of the Weald; lips parting in gentle purge of unwanted air. His long legs and narrow frame carried him effortlessly through the copse of svelte conifers. The night was stark and appropriately cold, with a biting sort of chill that carried to the bones. When Marruz's indigo and ebony orbs perused what patches of sky dripped between the lofty branches above, he found that the clouds were rather swollen. Soon, no doubt, there would be drifts of frozen rain to accompany him.

He shivered and narrowed his eyes, slowing his pace ever so slightly to cast his thoughts upon the Deepwood and its contents. Marruz was still nearly a stranger to the place, though he had managed to support what he could of the borders. He was constantly made aware that the Melonii were still in formation, and it dimly sparked his conciousness that he had been the first of his brothers to find them. He, lanky Marruz, had managed to do it all alone. And while he was hardly one for celebration, tonight Marruz thought he might have stood twice as tall.

The moment was brief, of course. It was customary for Marruz to be a stubborn boy, and when it came to joy he was certainly never one to dabble in it. His brothers would, after all, be turning up soon... Right? No, no. He wasn't worried for them in the least.

But, his father would have been proud, right?