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[indent][color=00CED1]“What a strange land,”[/color] Lys spoke to no one in particular as she watched a singular yellow leaf fall in front of her.  This was her first time in the Empire of Man before winter hit, and it was her first time seeing the sea of colors all around the road.  From the red, yellow, and orange leaves that dotted the canopy in the forest above, to the snow-capped mountains that filled the horizon, there was much that filled her with a wonder that she had never experienced.  And thus far, she was enjoying what she was seeing.  They did not have trees like this back in the Frost Tribes, no theirs were tall and prickly and always the same shade of green year-round.  As well, she rarely got to see the mountain peaks back home as they were always in the clouds, and she was neither brave nor foolish enough to attempt that climb.  

As she admired the scenery around her, movement ahead on the cobblestone road caught her eye.  In a quick motion, she had a hand on her weapon and her face towards the unseen threat.  A second later, she relaxed her grip and her expression softened as she watched a few small children running up the road towards her.  The sound of laughter could be heard even from the distance she was at, and it brought a small smile to her face.  These lands were much different from her own.  While she thought that it was entirely too warm out, she loved the sights, the scents, and even the sounds of children feeling safe enough to run down the road even as a stranger walked them.  As she continued her walk she noticed the children catch sight of her for the first time.  It appeared as if the two children discussed what to do next before they turned away from Lys and began sprinting down the road.  

[color=00CED1]“That is trouble,”[/color] Lys said with a frown.  She knew that there was a village nearby.  She knew this because she had led a small raiding party into it the previous winter.  And she knew she may have stolen quite a bit of their needed food. While she was not dressed with the sigil nor the colors of her tribe today, she was still overdressed for this area and looked very much like one of the pale raiders.  She knew the children would alert the local garrison, and they would come looking for her.  Her eyes darted from side to side.  She knew she had to keep traveling south, however, she would need to find a new path that would take her in that direction.  As she thought, the wind carried a burnt piece of paper into her face, covering her vision completely.  [color=00CED1]“The fuck,”[/color] she whispered as she ripped it from her face and looked at the writing on it.  [color=00CED1]“Darmor,”[/color] she once again scanned the area around her, [color=00CED1]“is Darmor where I am meant to go,”[/color] she asked as she awaited an answer from The Fates.  Silence was her only response.  Silence, and then the ringing of a bell ahead of her.  

[color=00CED1]“Shit,”[/color] she muttered as she took off to the side and into the woods.  She held onto the burnt parchment like it was the most important piece of paper she had ever held.  And she ran, running faster than she had in recent years, and trying to push through her own limits to run faster some more.
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[indent]“Shit,” Grove muttered as she jumped over a fallen tree that blocked the path in front of her.  She held onto the fated stick she was given like it was the most important sick she had ever held.  And she ran, she ran faster than she thought she could but she knew she needed to run faster than even this.  

Behind her, she could hear the shouts, the cries, and the frustration brewing in her pursuers.  They were close.  Much closer than they had been the past few days and much closer than Grove ever dared to fear.  She could smell their anger, their desperation, and Grove needed to get away from it.  Her eyes darted across the woods ahead, and she searched for whatever path would take her away from her pursuers.  Eventually, she spotted it.  There was a windy path that led towards a canyon, and Groves intuition and spirit birds told her that was the only way she’d get away.  She turned her run towards that direction and set off down the windy trail.

Grove knew that there was something off about these woods.  The leaves lacked the same vibrant warmth of her home, the trees looked old and sick, and there were as many dead trees still standing as alive ones.  Everywhere she looked she felt like there were hungry eyes locked onto her, like she was the next meal to walk into their dinner plate.  This was a place of danger.  This was what the stories warned her about.  This was a place where she could die.  But yet, her smile never grew smaller.  This chase, these woods, and these spooky sights were all new to her, and she was ready to face these new challenges.  

Grove danced through the windy trail, avoiding every snag, every branch, and every fallen tree.  Eventually, she had made her way to the edge of the canyon and was about to look for the trail when she heard a voice from being shout to her.  “GROVE NO.”  Her head turned slightly, trying to see who it was and only caught a glimpse of the scout Amara before she suddenly began to fall.  The trail did not continue down a hill, or snake its way down the cliff side.  Instead, the trail ended at the edge of the canyon before it gave way to a steep decline.  It wasn’t a straight drop but it was a very steep slope filled with rocky outcrops and other sharp and dangerous objects.

Grove began to tumble down the side of the mountain.  Her descent began to speed up only to be slowed down by collisions with the rocky structures that dotted the hillside.  Again and again, she would tumble, fall, slip, and try to catch herself before she once again slammed into another rock.  She curled herself into the tightest ball she could, protecting both her head and the fated stick with everything she had.

Eventually, the descent slowed and Grove found herself near the bottom of the canyon.  She was bloodied, her bones were broken, and she would be crying in pain if it were not for the sheer adrenaline rushing through her veins.  Grove attempted to stand up and the pain nearly pushed her back down.  She tested each leg in turn and sighed as none appeared to have been broken in the fall.  She had numerous broken ribs, that much she could tell, but her legs were the most important thing.  She checked her bag and whispered “fuck” as she realized all her healing potions and jars were broken, however.  She coughed, and with the cough, she winced in pain.  

“STAY THERE GROVE,” Amaras faint voice shouted.  Grove looked up and her eyes went wide with shock.  She had fallen a great distance.  The scout up top looked like little more than a baby deer in the distance as opposed to a roll-grown member of her species.  “WE’LL GO TO TOWN TO SEE IF THERE’S A SAFE WAY DOWN.  WE CAN HELP YOU,” Amara started.

“Leave me alone,” was all grove could shout back before the pain took her words.  She scanned the area around, looking for healing medicines and plants.  She knew that she had been given a blessing with this fall, and it was up to her to make the most of it.  “What a strange land,” Grove finished with a smile.
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