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SomeoneSomewere said
Favnir nodded and said," I'll fly a bit before hand, keep an eye on things. I'll see you in three hours." He stood, winding his way back to his path. He walked, breathing in deeply through his nose. He might also hunt a bit before hand. He took to the sky once he reached clearing, flying out far past the perimeter before going higher, straight up. After reaching the appropriate hight he leveled out. From the ground, he would appear to be a large bird. He gazed down at the ground, still having shocking clarity. He flew to the edge of the forest, searching for any odd movement inside the trees.
After a moment of looking around, a snap grabs your attention. Turning around, you see quite an odd scene. An elf in bright green armor, pinned against a tree at a height of three meters by a net of roses, each of them covered in thorns. Although badly shredded, the elf still lives, as can be seen by the rise and fall of his chest. However, he is onviously unconscious, either from pain or blood loss. He smells odd. While obviously there's the scent of roses and blood, there's the smell of something more than that. It's a smell you've never smelt before, and yet it smells as familiar as burning wood.