“I tried to discover, in the rumor of forests and waves, words that other men could not hear, and I pricked up my ears to listen to the revelation of their harmony.”
― Gustave Flaubert, November
― Gustave Flaubert, November
5th of Winter, 516 AV
Zastoka Forest
Dawn
Though the wild was ripe with its own particular dangers, with the turmoil of Zeltiva currently a few miles behind her, Lily felt herself finally begin to relax. It had been a tumultuous first week in the south, and a part of her was already beginning to regret the trip. Of all the cities she could have picked, of course she chose the one that was ready to blow. Not only was the political front in Zeltiva uncertain, but the Gods were going crazy. She frowned deeply as Jenny plodded through the leaves blanketing the forest's floor and Dustin trotted ahead. A bounty on the heads of all Vantha. A Goddess gone AWOL. Winter had not come, and the distinctive lack of chill in the air cut just as deeply as any biting frost would.
Syliras hadn't been in a much better position when she left, but their military had seemed to have a better handle on whatever it was that was happening. Trade was still open, and their port wasn't shut down. They had had a curfew as well, but it surprised the tourist to find the same precautions in place almost 900 miles away. It was hard not to dwell on her family, and the redhead had wondered about them constantly this past week. But Lily was stranded now, and had to live with her decision until she could save up enough funds to return. That predicament was what brought her to the forest this morning.
With sea trade barred and winter adamantly absent, people would be desperate for more food. That meant more profits for her, if the huntress was willing to put in the extra work. Leliana looked behind them, into the shadowy trees from which they'd just come. The ridge they'd climbed off Mirahil Pass was just out of sight now. Inky forest, still untouched by the steadily rising sun, was all she could see in every direction. The compass in her hand showed due west as their heading, though the needle pointed ever north.
Leliana reined in her mare and whistled softly for the hound, who slid to a stop and came bounding back. She stepped down from the saddle, gave him a little scratch on the head, then looked at her compass once more. The redhead spun slowly in a circle, watching the needle hold its unwavering bearing north. She glanced up occassionally at the trees, mulling over the direction she wanted to go. On a large scale she knew that north meant Syliras, south meant back down into Zeltiva, and east to Mirahil Pass. South and east were out of the question, so that left north, west, and everything in between. The east side of the forest was better left for another day.
She finally decided on northwest. They would go until they hopefully hit water, or decided that was fruitless and came up with something else. The terrain would be rugged and unfamiliar, so Leliana was loathe to go too far. Today she mostly wanted to find some distinctive landmarks, and hopefully find an area with active game.