Shadewood but we go where we want to

With more enthusiasm than he typically had, he freed himself from his den he carefully shared with Gwen after noticing she was gone. Shaking free his pelt, the assassin brought out the full girth of his timber and artic mixed pelt of pure darkness, and he camoflaged with the shadows of their forest once again.

Low and masterful of tracking, the Phantom stalked the Ghost's trail until it heated up much more clearly in his nares than it had prior. She was near, and he wouldn't exactly walk up on her so boisterously; she was a fragile thing, and needed her space. So releasing the full jaunt of his walk, he kept forward through the trees, following the scent as it greeted him, until finally he called out that delectable name.

"Gwen?"