"Wait," Essenla said, stopping Morne with a raised hand. "You hear that?"
They had been in these woods for two weeks already, and had long since developed a sense of trust for the others' instincts. With that being said, Morne immediately stopped in his tracks, focusing on his surroundings.
While the sun was still in the sky, the thick canopy of leaves above their head let little of its light through. Everything was cast in thick shadows, to the point that Essenla's magic light wand was the only way they could see.
This was a place Morne had a passing, if distasteful, familiarity with: the Thorny Woods.
It was called that because the trees had wicked thorns sprouting from their bark and leaves, giving the dark gray wood a sinister appearance in the dim light.
This was where his master had sold him to the Ilnchan cultists. He wasn't worried about running into them, however. This forest went on for miles, and they were a good ways north of where he remembered their base to be.
