The sun was approaching halfway across the sky by the time I had gathered the thistleweed from the outskirts of the Great Forest. The forest itself is bustling with life, and I spend a good half hour of my time watching the changeling fairies scuttle among the fallen leaves, throwing stones at each other, and yelping when they get hit.
Compared to the palace of the vampires, to the high tensions and the fear that every living day may be your last, the Great Forest is serene, a slice of peace in times of war.
I meet two elven hunters trailing a boar on the outskirts- hunters of the palace, well decked in fine armour, gathering food for the nights feasts (which since I have staunchly refused to attend from the day of my arrival.) A fact that, thinking about it now, probably pisses Soren off.
I grin to myself. Excellent.
