Shadewood and fear is the most divine emotion

for @Azalea

all the way down the coast he's done his best to actively avoid sand and sea as much as he can. there were different times that it presented more of a challenge for him than he'd care to admit and he begrudgingly and unhappily trudged through the sand and sucked it up as he was battered by sandy breezes sticky with saltwater. the first fresh water source he came upon — the twin rivers at the isle — he bathed in them both and came out on the other side of the western river into the shadewood.

the territory is cast mostly in shadow, large sprawling elks and elms tower high above him like sentinels of mother nature. despite that snow'd fallen for most the morning the earthen floor of the shadewood got through it rather unscathed. there was a few places as he ventures inland that held a dusting of snow but no layering like he's used to. it's alright, he deduces, but he's got the permafrost hollows in the crosshairs of his scope for settling. after all, if he's going to embrace the tundrian in him he's going to embrace it the right way.

the sun is barely seen except for golden tendrils of evening light that pushed their way through the thick canopy above and he knows that soon the shadewood would become a whole new playground as night settled over it. he hasn't considered where he'd bunker down for the night but he supposes since he's here it's as good a place as any to begin looking for something to use as temporary shelter.