July 10th; Early afternoon; Overcast; 64° F/18° C
To travel from the northern part of Southern Eden up into the Heart of Relic Lore usually took one about 24 hours. For Sköll Archer, a dark-hearted yearling with a mission, it had taken him roughly four long days. It had probably taken him that long due to the fact that he had lost whatever bits of Deacon's scent he could find. Whether or not his baby brother had gone through his part of the realm was unknown, but one thing had been for certain. Somewhere, just a while back something strange and unfamiliar had teased at his nose. At first he had thought it was the odor of a dying animal or a corpse that had just returned to the earth after the rains, but upon realizing that his sibling's scent had intermingled with this foreign aroma was a clue. It was also a confirmation that Deacon had been stolen away.
These trees were strange. The more Sköll ventured further, the more came to realize that he did not like this particular grove. The trees were too tall and too thick; their foliage only provided suitable cover wherever their boughs had grown a foot or two above the ground. It made him antsy, feverish with an absolute need to find the open skies above him and continue with the belief that, sooner or later, he would find some sort of sign, pointing him toward where his naive and gullible brother had gone.
It had taken the prince a few hours but it would seem that he had broken through to the tree line, his muddied paws met with the coolness of the creek that encircled the wood. He lowered his head to lap from babbling current, shaking his head a few times to dispose of the water that had gathered on the ivory hairs of his chin. Casting his gaze upward and taking in an eyeful of the gray sky, he sighed, grateful at the very least that the summer sun would not sap him of his energy stores. As it stood, it would seem that he was welcome to lounge here, to quench his thirst and soak his feet before moving onward.