Phoebe
The Nightingale
Phoebe herself was patrolling the Wildwood. It was practice really, trying to memorize the ever shifting pathways of the wood. It seemed to be trying to help her no less, spitting her back out the way she came each time she made a wrong turn. Helpful, but frustrating nonetheless.
The Nightingale had gone in a full circle nearly twice - and was quite preturbed about it - when she noticed some strange tracks. Feet and...a long slide mark. A tail? How truly odd. Then she remembered the stories of a new race of people that had emerged since the war. Was one such person here in the Greatwood? Curious, she decided to investigate, and the wood relented to her wishes as she stumbled upon a very...striking fellow not too long after. "Hello there!" she said brightly.
The Nightingale had gone in a full circle nearly twice - and was quite preturbed about it - when she noticed some strange tracks. Feet and...a long slide mark. A tail? How truly odd. Then she remembered the stories of a new race of people that had emerged since the war. Was one such person here in the Greatwood? Curious, she decided to investigate, and the wood relented to her wishes as she stumbled upon a very...striking fellow not too long after. "Hello there!" she said brightly.
love is the flower you've got to let grow
