Deepwood Weald to cut away the mountains i've made

Marruz was buzzing along without much hindrance; had been for most of the day. The light that struck through the bristled limbs seemed to illuminate his path, urging him along. All the while, he was the acute boy his parentage had instructed him to be - always cautious and always aware. He had to be, even in woods infested by his own blood. It was, after all, no different.

The stripling became aware of his visitor a few minutes before he decided to let it on, seeing as there was no real threat. Should trouble be intended, surely it would have been executed by now, right? The darkling really was not in the mood for social interaction, anyway, and he tried his best to keep at a brisk gait. 

Marruz heard the large paws of his trailer and figured it might be best to avoid him, or at least, that would be his excuse for this instance. So, he promptly swerved through the Weald's dense undergrowth, making an intricate loop through the slender trees. Maybe if he was lucky he could lose the brute in the grove... or, even better, he could turn the tides and pursue him.