The marsh stunk.
That was the first thing that Alaric noticed as he stepped lightly across the damp earth under him. The scent invaded his senses, causing him to turn up his nose in disgust. "What kind of animals would want to live here?" the feline wondered aloud, stopping for a moment to examine his surroundings. Light was scarce in the swamp—glancing upwards to prove that was unnecessary. Nevertheless, he cast his icy blue gaze upwards, but only a singular stream of light was able to filter through the twisted crown of foliage far above his head. It was a wonder that some cantankerous creature hadn't attacked him in the darkness.
Water was clearly abundant in the weald. Miraculously, Alaric had managed to stay mostly dry by stepping only on the gnarled roots of the trees around him. Despite this, the humidity in the air made him feel thoroughly drenched. It was disgusting, quite frankly, or at least he thought so.
Cautiously, Alaric ventured on through the marsh. He walked aimlessly for a few minutes, and at some point he decided to take a break on the twisting roots of the tree that he had stopped on. For some reason, he found his eyes drawn towards the tree. On it was a strange symbol carved into the bark. A straight horizontal line, with two shorter vertical lines scratched on top. It was a curious symbol, he thought, and it was too fresh to be from an ancient civilization. Perhaps it meant that there was intelligent life nearby. He had no earthly idea what the symbol could signify, but if it meant that there was someone or something out there... Well, maybe seeking them out would be a good idea. He figured that the chance of being killed by whatever group lurked nearby was pretty low. Perhaps, even, he'd be able to find a home among them. He hoped, at least.
With a newfound diligence, the tabby pressed onward. As he progressed, he noted that a few traps began to appear; snares here, nets there. The further he walked, the greater their frequency. Alaric kept a wide berth from each of them, bar the few close calls he had here and there. It could be assumed that their increasing rate of recurrence meant that he was getting nearer to the place that the group called home. This was further evidenced by the gradual replacement of the swamp's stench with an unfamiliar scent.
Unbeknownst to Alaric, he had ventured onto Tanglewood territory.
That was the first thing that Alaric noticed as he stepped lightly across the damp earth under him. The scent invaded his senses, causing him to turn up his nose in disgust. "What kind of animals would want to live here?" the feline wondered aloud, stopping for a moment to examine his surroundings. Light was scarce in the swamp—glancing upwards to prove that was unnecessary. Nevertheless, he cast his icy blue gaze upwards, but only a singular stream of light was able to filter through the twisted crown of foliage far above his head. It was a wonder that some cantankerous creature hadn't attacked him in the darkness.
Water was clearly abundant in the weald. Miraculously, Alaric had managed to stay mostly dry by stepping only on the gnarled roots of the trees around him. Despite this, the humidity in the air made him feel thoroughly drenched. It was disgusting, quite frankly, or at least he thought so.
Cautiously, Alaric ventured on through the marsh. He walked aimlessly for a few minutes, and at some point he decided to take a break on the twisting roots of the tree that he had stopped on. For some reason, he found his eyes drawn towards the tree. On it was a strange symbol carved into the bark. A straight horizontal line, with two shorter vertical lines scratched on top. It was a curious symbol, he thought, and it was too fresh to be from an ancient civilization. Perhaps it meant that there was intelligent life nearby. He had no earthly idea what the symbol could signify, but if it meant that there was someone or something out there... Well, maybe seeking them out would be a good idea. He figured that the chance of being killed by whatever group lurked nearby was pretty low. Perhaps, even, he'd be able to find a home among them. He hoped, at least.
With a newfound diligence, the tabby pressed onward. As he progressed, he noted that a few traps began to appear; snares here, nets there. The further he walked, the greater their frequency. Alaric kept a wide berth from each of them, bar the few close calls he had here and there. It could be assumed that their increasing rate of recurrence meant that he was getting nearer to the place that the group called home. This was further evidenced by the gradual replacement of the swamp's stench with an unfamiliar scent.
Unbeknownst to Alaric, he had ventured onto Tanglewood territory.
♔ don't do love, don't do friends