After what seemed liked ages, he walked back into the enchanted forest. It was not a place he missed, but it was somewhere he liked to come back to - to relax, if nothing else - war, the very concept, was in his blood, and any place which guarded against it in the manner the forest did, was not his kind of place. Making his way straight to the bank of the pond, Cloud took a moment to survey his surroundings.

Footsteps; dry leaves being crunched underfoot; and above all, a tingling sensation in the back of his neck - was all the indication he needed to know that someone was approaching.

Without a second thought, his hand traveled to the hilt of the great sword hanging on his back. It was not so much of a conscious thought, but more of an instinctive reaction. But then he remembered that this was the forest. Not 'a' forest, but the enchanted forest - a place where 'war' was not allowed. 

He was not certain whether the enchantments were still intact, but he did not feel interested in finding out either. For now, he was slightly weary, and needed to relax.

Slowly relaxing his grip on the hilt, Cloud let his hand find its way back into the pockets of his dark blue overcoat. 

'So what have I become ...' He wondered, as he let out a soft sigh. 

"Hello." He muttered, meaning for it to be heard by the person approaching, but not quite caring whether it is heard.

Though he was here to relax, he knew that he could not lose track of his prey.