WE SHALL NOT BE MOVED ☆ markers

[wormwood.]

Ever since the death of Leroy, one of the two shining lights leading Tanglewood, things had fallen into a state of disarray. Aurum had hardly seen Crow around at all, Selby was injured from that fucking fight with the Pitt, Delilah was having a mental breakdown over losing another old friend, and amazing, Feza was one of the only damn people around here that was actually in an acceptable state. It was actually sort of infuriating, how Feza managed to let things just roll over her and move on with her life while also attempting to cheer everyone in the group up. Sure, Aurum was holding himself together, but that was only so that not everybody would be falling apart in the swampland dwelling Tanglewood. It was rough, especially since he wanted to screech in fury and agony whenever he thought about Leroy's death for more than a few seconds, but he was trying. In his trying, he had decided to go and do some tasks in the group that had been neglected in the group for far too long now, especially considering that Beck was now gone – vanished into thin air, as if the ghost had finally passed on. The markings that had once covered the territory, marking where there was prey, where there were traps and what direction the camp was in, had faded quite a bit over time, and now they were barely visible on the trees around the territory, something that annoyed the shit out of Aurum, considering it led to more than a few incidents involving the traps that Beck had set up when first making the territory of Tanglewood theirs. Whether it be back when Moth had first been accidentally scooped up by a trap, or when a new joiner came and had to deal with nearly being eaten by gators, they needed the markings, and Aurum had decided he was going to do a huge tour of the territory to try and refresh most of them.

So, that was exactly what the guardsman had gone and done. Of course, he had been incredibly careful when it came to figuring out where the hell the traps were, since he wasn't particularly in the mood to get caught in some elaborate shit he couldn't escape from. Carefully, the winged lion had flown over most of the territory, occasionally pressing the barest minimum of touches against the earth to see if it set anything off. Occasionally it did, and that was when Aurum would yank himself back, hissing in annoyance before moving to remake the mark of warning in a nearby tree or log. The Mark's were thankfully not that hard to tecarve, but it occasionally took a few minutes for him to remember what the hell some of the markings were for certain things, since they hadn't exactly been too widespread lately – another thing that wasn't super ideal, considering what the markers were fucking for. If nobody knew them, they wouldn't exactly be useful. Still, he shook that thought off, flying across the territory and going from place to place, carving the markers in one by one with his claws. Eventually he got to the boundary of the town, settling down near one of the trees and reaching up to carefully carve the "camp" symbol into the tree trunk, smiling just a bit at the satisfying scratching noise that came from his claws sinking into the bark. That was the last one, and he found himself finally able to let his paws touch the ground again, confident that he wasn't about to go plummeting down into a pit. As he walked into the town, he decided he would solve the second part of the issues with his little plan. Clearing his throat, the lion roared loudly, "Hey! Does anybody around here not know the tree markers we use around here? If not, come over here, please!" He had to review pretty much all of them before doing this, so he figured he was pretty qualified to teach them to others at this point – they'd probably be firmly pressed into his eyelids every time he closed his eyes for the next week or so.

[glow=black,2,300]THE FREEDOM OF FALLING[/glow]