Arthur soared through the air, the wind whistling in his ears as he propelled himself towards the towering wooden cabinet nestled among the colossal branches. With each surge of momentum, he closed the distance, his golden eyes locked on the curious presence inside.
He landed with the subtle grace of a predator, his boots settling lightly on the gargantuan leaves that served as the cabinet's roof. A tense anticipation hummed through him. Something was amiss. The presence he sensed, the faint scent of Oriole's lingering essence– it shouldn't have led him here, to the masked woman who'd set him on this path.
A strange suspicion, sharp as a thorn, pierced his curiosity. The woman who had warned him of Oriole's danger… was she the source of that danger? He'd sensed no malice from her in their previous brief encounters, but in this world of schemes and betrayals, appearances could deceive.
