Sweet Cinnamoth
EXP: 37,766, Level: 8
Level completed: 31%,
EXP required for next Level: 6,234
Outside the winding halls of the stoney castle, a small winged fae and a dark direwolf wandered through a misty forest.
Fenn didn’t mind the dewy quality of the air. It was fascinating to watch flecks of mist drift too close to him, and fall to the pine needles as the tiniest specks of ice. The fresh air was a sharp boon after the castle’s stuffy atmosphere. The only thing that bothered him was all the wreckage he picked his way around; fallen walls, uprooted trees and shrubs, and broken glass from shattered windows all littered the world outside it. At least, the glass and stone vanished as he and this wolf delved into the pines. This area must have been through quite a storm in recent times.
The damage didn’t phaze Daugi so much. However, every so often, she would lift her muzzle and snuffle at his hair and fluttering wings, as if still checking to see that he was who she thought him to be.
He wasn’t entirely sure that he was.
Whoever he was now though was alive. Alive and breathing under dark, cloud-laden skies. There was no rain. No wind. Instead, a seething turmoil of thunder and lightning ravaged the heavens. A downpour promised itself in the darkness of the clouds.
Fen didn’t know where he was headed. Not yet. He knew where he was; he knew that these were Raiaeran trees. He knew that when the stars flickered into view at night, he’d be able to pinpoint his place in the universe more distinctly than just what nation he was in. But he didn’t know where he was supposed to be heading from. That scared him a little. And he found that alright; adventures were not supposed to be easy. Especially not adventures of finding oneself.
For all he knew, he was bound for the edge of the world.
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Welcome to PUBERTY Fenn!
A fun fact you didn’t want to know; when caterpillars go into their chrysalises, they turn to a fine goop before reforming as a butterfly. And somehow, their brain survives the process just fine! Canonically speaking, Fenn spent a month or two as a terrifying person-mush. Isn’t nature grand?
