A sunlit reflection was fading with timid trepidation against muted emerald eyes.

Devon looked upward and closed his eyes, feeling the wind, feathered through the trees, blow overhead. The rapidly fleeting light, now nearly gone, replaced with a flutter of darkness. He was an herbalist and an archer. By those to measures, one could easily surmise that he was someone who was inclined to help from afar, rather than jump straight into the fray. If one made these assumptions about him, they may prove more correct, as the man with silky clay colored hair had an affinity for staying out of the way to avoid needless injury. As someone who prided himself on making people better with handmade remedies, he knew it was unwise for him to fall victim to a sword or burst of magical energy. As long as Devon's heart could sustain life, he would be determined to help his fellow man, even at the cost of some branding him a coward.

Time passed steadily as the slender man collected his bearings. The area was familiar territory to him, even in the darkest of nights. Having lived in a town nearby, the man had made these woods a second home. In his youth, his parents would take him on countless trips to the very same area he was in. There, he was taught how to hunt and track, to forage and shoot. Those memories lived on in his mind but could never act as a weakness to the man who replaced his childish shadow. Years spent honing his talents had been a blessing and allowed him to age with wisdom which he tucked away, close to his chest. Devon took a step to his left, already expecting to dip his head down to prevent a long branch from smacking him in the head. The woods were by no means predictable but due to his exploration of them since birth, they had little tricks of their sleeves.

Devon's tricks on the other hand, were ones he opened advertised. Many herbalists began to wear a striking color to alert others to their skills with plants and minerals. The color in question was teal, a known color for the healing of one's mind, allowing many people to relax at the mere sight of the ocean or sky. A teal cotton shirt covered his upper body while he wore dark black pants and over his shirt, was a leather vest which had several inner pockets which contained many berries which Devon had collected during his rummaging throughout the large area. Over his shoulder as a matching black leather pack that had a single thick strap around his chest. Inside he had his arrows and other tools for concocting remedies. Inhaling, he finally felt comfortable enough to continue his trek.

With word spreading in regards to the princess turning into a werewolf, time was a constant dwindling variable. 

He wasn't the only soul who felt compelled to help. While many had their eyes on the reward at the end of tunnel, Devon followed more pure intentions and by that standard, he felt much more pressure. Money was common and while he could use the additional gold and wealth and reputation, he wanted to help the princess. It was a simple calling to which his heart could cling to. The woods would only go on for so long and by that point, he would need to decide where to go next. In his lifetime, he had done plenty of studying and research but knowledge of werewolves were not quite as common as how to mend a burn or sedate a wounded warrior. Devon knew he may do much better in a group. It could prevent him from doing any frivolous fighting and it may get them to a safe destination, as well as the princess, much quicker if there were more people to discuss matters with. His mind could only provide so much aid after all.

Walking along and dodging various roots and troublesome bushes, he spotted something in the distance. It was very dim and he assumed whoever it was, didn't want to be found. Devon didn't remove his weapon but instead decided to approach it, not from behind, but from the left. The man jogged through the wood and made a short loop where the light was coming from. Though the healer knew nothing of magic, he could still admit that it had benefits and right now, providing light was one he would be rather welcoming of. "Evening." Devon greeted, tone jovial but still hushed enough to not draw much attention to them. There were plenty of people in the area and while he could selected any of them, something drew Devon in and made him consider the mage beside him. "I trust you're well stocked, but if you need any food, I have plenty." He said, knowing that everyone had to be useful and in his own case, he often had a supply of meat and root vegetables and grains in his bag. He was prepared for most things.

He just hoped a fight wan't something he had to worry about at the moment.