There was an uncanny and deep-seeded doubt about this place now that it had come to light where he was.Relic Lore. If he were being honest and straightforward, it left a bitter taste in his mouth. Inkheart, dare he even begun to think his name, had been one shit of a father. A man not worthy of breathing and yet, he might even begin to say that if he had to be stuck in a den with his mother or father he'd choose the latter. Nonetheless, it still made him a little frustrated that of all the places he could have come across it was this one.

In his father's defense, the place was lovely so far. There was so much open space to explore and so many different scents, but there was also a lot of history here that Idris felt there was left to be found. History that he wasn't so sure he ever wanted to come across but was sure there was someone still here that recognized the bastard of a man.

One such delight that he had found was on the brink of dusk, he has begun to see fireflies begin to spot around him. Little beacons of light creating a symphony of imagery around him and the orange-eyed knight wandered in slow, tentative steps; though, he was careful not to smash head-first into any of the pine trees.