She pressed on, momentarily free of any sense of obligation to stick to any one place. Mojave felt it pertinent to continue her exploration of the forest beyond the mountain, though she also found she did not stray too far from her one becaon marker along the horizon. Though in the dense wood, it was impossible to really tell where it was she had come from. She wasn't hopelessly lost by any means, but her visual cues had left her skirting from beneath overgrown boughs in a haphazard sort of way. There were many things of interest here that intrigued her, that called to her. She found that she quite liked the security that the woods provided, the warmth that etched its way out across the cold.
But there was also a chilling sense to that very wood, though it was far from foreboding. With the branches nearly interlocking as they weaved patterns between her and the sky, the shadows crept up and lurked in some places. Daylight was waning, slipping away smoothly into evening as she pressed forward. Mojave was certain the way she was going was back east, towards the mountain, but had become impossible to tell. Well, maybe not impossible, but it was improbable that in her youth she had a complete sense of north and south, east and west. She didn't know the old tricks or adages to quell her uncertainty. With that uncertainty came the slowing of her pace; her awareness piqued and her gold eyes discerned and tore through the shadowy bends in the muddied and varied path before her.
She had the overwhelming sense that she was not alone, but could not tell what it was that left her feeling that way.
(This post was last modified: Mar 12, 2015, 12:08 AM by Mojave.
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