Collaboration between YoshiSkittlez and Ghost Shadow -- A gentle wind seemed to breeze through the forest, making odd [i]whistling[/i] sounds, as if the trees were making quiet conversation amongst themselves. Birds began to make their chirping sound as they awoke from the night’s rest, and squirrels scuttled from branch to branch in search of nuts. The morning sun dappled across the expanse, the treetops transforming the sunlight into odd patterns across the landscape: all was quiet, all was peaceful. Mark had gotten to work no more than an hour earlier, packing up his equipment with haste. He had enjoyed the weekend out in the woods, but he had a shift at the fire station, and God forbid [i]he[/i] be late. Grip sauntered about the campfire lazily, perking his ears this way and that as the woodland sounds piqued his interest. Mark could only offer a small smile to his dog before stuffing his mess kit in his backpack. He stamped out the still-smoldering remains of his campfire; ensuring to leave no mark of his presence in the woods. He looked down at his wrist, his watch giving the time at around 8 o’clock. Mark nodded approvingly; he would have enough time to grab a quick breakfast at Granny’s and drop his gear off at his house before heading into work for the day. He continued working on in silence. His peace was soon interrupted, however, when Grip stopped dead in his tracks. The German Shepherd's fur seemed to bristle, and a low, guttural growl came from deep in his throat. Mark gave the dog a peculiar look, Grip only growled when something dangerous was about. He instinctively placed a single hand on the hunting knife that was strapped securely to his thigh, eyes sharp and alert for any danger. The rustling in the bushes continued, something large enough to make a few thicker twigs snap in a ghostly echo of the morning air, getting closer and closer until finally, Mr. Gold pushed his way through the push and into the clearing, pausing to lean heavily on his cane once he spotted that he was no longer alone but unable to keep a smile out of the corners of his eyes, obviously very pleased with something. Aside from his usual wear, a rather large green gardening apron protected his four piece suit from the elements of the forest, giving way that Mr. Gold was indeed not here by accident, although humerous that the apron could really keep his suit clean in all areas, however not a spec of dirt could be seen anywhere but the apron. "Good morning Mr. Dufresne. Sorry if I startled you." Mr Gold offered in what [i]almost[/i] sounded like sincerity in his thick, Scottish accent, hinting with a drawl of boredom. Mark quickly released the grip of his blade, choosing to rest both hands in his pants pockets. "A good morning to you as well, Mr. Gold; pardon my actions, I thought you might have been a wolf." He explained, his words sounding conversational enough, but his tone was stiff and slightly uncomfortable. Grip continued to leer at Mr. Gold even after the pawnbroker made his presence known. Mr. Gold flashed a sideways smile, his white teeth and single golden-capped tooth glinting in the morning light, a twinkle in his eye as if thinking of something humerous. "Did I forget to shave?" He mused. "Oh, no..." Mark began, scratching the back of his head. He wasn't quite used to joking banter, and was obviously fishing for a proper response. "What are you doing out here anyways? If you don't mind my asking." He finally settled on, calling Grip to him with a simple pat on his hip. "Oh, just a spot of gardening." Mr. Gold replied with a gentle shrug of his narrow shoulders, and as if to prove this, he reached back behind the bush, procuring a shovel that had been resting against a tree that had been well hidden from sight behind the bushes he was still standing beside. Fresh, clumped dirt covered the spade, but just like Mr. Gold's suit, the rest of the shovel remained immaculately clean. "Yourself?" "Just camping for the weekend. I come out here every few weeks when I want some time to think." He replied nonchalantly, securing a few more items to his backpack while he spoke; though never letting his eyes off of Mr. Gold longer than a few seconds. "Pardon the observation, but I would have never taken you for a gardener." Mark said simply, standing still to look directly at the Scottish man once more. Gold's smile brightened, if just a bit and palmed the handle of his cane a bit, answering with a snide smile, "I suppose not." He said simply and then after a pause. "But then you don't really know me, do you?" Letting it rest at that, with his cane in one hand and shovel in the other, Mr. Gold began to walk forwards, back towards the trail that would lead him back to the town. "Enjoy the quiet while you can." Gold then said just before disappearing into the thicket of trees, his voice holding something that almost sounded like...like a warning. "Huh...sure." Mark simply responded to himself with a slight shrug. Mr. Gold made him feel nothing short of uncomfortable, as if he knew something no one else did. Pushing this thought to the back of his mind, Mark finished packing up his gear before beginning the short hike that led to Storybrooke, Grip treading closely at his heels. With the newcomer rolling into town, something inside Mark seemed to signal to him that this would be far from a normal week.