BETRAYAL CHICKEN!

[firstworldproblem]

[The wind howled and blew a bitter chill past the dying trees; it danced with the leaves and dragged them away unwillingly from the autumn ground. The floor was damp and stagnant with the odor of decomposing wood, diamonds pierced the black sheet held up above and looked down with vengeance. The forest seemed to never end; tall silhouettes shadowing the ground, black birds circling overhead, and screams echoing through the wind.

You find yourself on a dirt road, lightly traveled. You can't recall how you got here. Did you die? Did you fall asleep? Did some magic of yours go awry? You look to the trees for answers, but they simply bend their branches in the slight wind.

Further up the road you see the silhouette of a person sitting against a tree.]

Comments

[inimarupta]

Now, don't just think of yourself.

[Her eyes on on the hatchet first, only then looking to the rider and his mount. Since she's drawing on earth anyway, Invidia extends her hand, palm-up even as she reaches out with her will. To roll animal handling. Er, to attempt calm it, urging steadiness.]

[firstworldproblem]

[The horse will calm snorting and pacing a foot, but easy enough to approach. The rider flops upon its back almost boneless as Emet-Selch approaches. He looks at the rider long and hard trying to discern something.

Though that quiet moment is broken by the howling of wolves from beyond the trees and the padding of paws just outside their field of vision.]