Step by step, the land changed.  In earlier ages, the plants grew from sand and creatures lived because the ground had been watered by the rancid, necrotic drippings of a being cursed by magnificent powers of creation to decompose, regrow, and decompose again.  Perhaps that sorrowful fate incorporated some small measure of mercy in the sense that a creature with no sanity to shatter and no wits to waste suffered it, and not some other being.    None could pine about those tragic days, though, even if anyone remembered it, for they were days gone.  Now, a different being walked the earth.  The passing of winter meant that new leaves would grow, and in essence spring had come to a certain spirit.  When Slough's wooden hooves touched the earth, there came not rot, but light.  From the threadlike cracks in its bark skin drizzled a shimmering sap—a smooth, sticky fluid that, like a crystal, captured a glorious radiance.  When it fell to earth, plants sprang up, and animals appeared without the use of malodorous spawning sacs.  The variety of these animals did not bear comparison with that of the creatures of the previous eras.  So many were their species and subspecies that no encyclopedia could chronicle each one.  As such, the land over which Slough passed flourished.  Could this be because of the Greater Life Wisps that constantly followed it courtesy of Niciel's Orb of Life?  There seemed to be no shortage of miracles nowadays.

Slough did not simply walk though.  The once-ghoul of the Deepwood ran from the place in the north where it awoke, headed swiftly and steadily southwest.  Over snowy taiga and enormous grasslands it ran, ignorant to or indifferent of the bounty of life that thrived in its wake.  It encountered mountains where demihuman beings dwelled and crossed them, unperturbed by the place's denizens.  In time, the residents of that range would think of the wooden creature's pilgrimage as a blessing, for the hardy trees and plentiful game that arose on the path it took would benefit their lives.  No matter the tongue, this trail of life became known simply as 'the Streak'.  Of course, Slough did not pause even for a single day in its tireless and mysterious trek.  After the mountains came a new, treacherous place: a steamy jungle, suffused with poison and mutagenic, toxic pools.

In here, the life-deer finally slowed its pace.  With caution it navigated the tangle of trees, vines, and briars.  When it encountered a creature it felt no obligation to contend with, it simply stood still, and in that moment became less of a tree-garbed animal and more of an animal-shaped tree.  Before long the beasts in question would move on, and the journey would resume.  Slough took special care not to step into any of the Venomweald's infamous pools.  Ultimately, though, no amount of patience and deliberation forestalled the arrival of a certain despicable thing.

As Slough came to the top of a little mound in the jungle, where a rocky deposit prevented the growth of trees, the earth began to shake.  It watched small animals leaping from tree to tree or scampering along the ground in an attempt to flee from the source of the ominous vibrations, but Slough did not move.  A huge, dark shape, like a loaded stormcloud hinted at by thunder, could be glimpsed through the trees.  At last, with a great crash, the Venomweald Writhe appeared before its prey, trees bent like matchsticks beneath its awesome bulk.

Fleshy tendrils of plantmatter extended toward the life-deer, eager to snare and crush.  Slough, however, remained unmoved.  With an air of tranquility it turned its head so that the right side faced the Writhe, and inside the socket the white light burned.  It smouldered with malice and mercy; the memories of death, rebirth, and a terrible curse radiated from that twisted soul.  Faced with this, the Writhe, though eyeless, saw something profound.  Though its tiny, primal mind could not comprehend what visions washed over it, its very existence became suffused by knowledge of what was, what is, and what should be.

In this manner, Slough helped the Venomweald Writhe remember what an indescribable something made it forget.

[i]What is the Great One's will return to It.[/i]

Instantly, it slumped over.  One could tell by looking at it that its life hadn't been extinguished, though it might have just as well been for how much it moved.  Still, after a few moments, its great flowerbud mouth squirmed, and a precious thing escaped from its vile, massive prison.  A multicolored soul, small in size but vast in legacy drifted toward the life-deer.  Its light, bright white at the center but with a prismatic corona of green, red, blue, and yellow, suggested the sun.

[i]The soul of the sovereign of seasons.[/i]

Slough opened its mouth, and the soul flitted in between the root spikes to disappear down its throat.  It did not change or fade away, but remained inside for safekeeping.  Seemingly satisfied, Slough took one last look at the lifeless plantmass, turned, and began to walk away.  The pull toward a point in the sky strained harder than ever, but before the call could be heeded, there was work to be done.

[hider=Slough, Requisitioner]
-The manner in which Slough creates life has changed as a result of alterations to its being.  Similarly, these changes have steeped it in strength, leveling it up [i]twice[/i].
-In its journey, Slough traverses the Rovaick Mountains (or as best I can place them, since they're not on the map) and brings them wildlife.
-After arriving in the Venomweald, Slough restores the soul of the Venomweald Writhe, then takes it.
-Now Slough is bound for parts unknown!  Whatever could she be after?

16 Might spent of two levels
1 FP spent to restore the Soul of Seasons' Sovereign
22 Might remaining
2 FP remaining

[/hider]