Haunted Wood The voice of rage and ruin.

The forest was a massive, sprawling place of darkness and light; the shadows crossing path with lingering ground-level fog, while patches of fresh snow built up in the gaps. It was different from the mountain; hard to traverse sometimes, which surprised him, and it seemed to go on and on without limit. He'd spent the better part of the afternoon mapping the place out (hoping that he'd encounter @Tzila or @Black Hat during the entire escapade, but so far no luck).

At some point his eager energy waned, and as he hiked through a stand of aspen trees he was met with a dull but constant sound, and the scent of water. The distant echoes of a river—which coaxed him onward, but no matter how far he went it seemed as if he was destined never to find the source. At least an hour passed, maybe two or three, before the sound was so deep and all-consuming that Revui was lost to the clamor of it. He found a ledge upon which to stand, to loom, and much as he'd peered in to the pit that morning... Now he peered at the rushing pulse of a snaking river.

The slower sections were topped with thin ice. Some areas where the water did not flow so freely had become encrusted with it, and that was piled with fresh snow. He drifted down to the embankment with half a mind to try and cross; but as he tested his weight against the frigid edge he felt it shift, beginning to buckle beneath his substantial weight, and so he pulled back. With a piggish huff he began to climb away from the river and back along the wooded hillside.