Enocra Woodland

Pine, spruce and firs alike...
Dense coniferous forests cover the woodlands, with clearings, paths and the occasional wildberry shrub throughout. Pine, spruce and fir make up much of the forest in the east, with the forest becoming swampier in the west towards Mecor Valley. In the west, cypress trees dominate, with fallen trees creating bridges across and throughout the stillwaters.

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i'm always gonna be the last one standing
IP: 69.113.245.145


The warmth of the noon sun was comfortable as Fritjof trotted along at a steady tempo. He had wandered from Taviora for a bit of a stroll. The day was right for it, and his eyes were relaxed, his ears taking in the sounds of scampering chipmunks and twittery birds. A glorious day for relaxing. Not that he could not lay in Taviora, listen to Seamus' stories, and enjoy some chatter on a slow day, but there was something to be said for a venture beyond the territory, and movement. He enjoyed a good run, or even just an easy jog. Then another sound crossed his hearing, and he scented the air curiously. There was an unfamiliar female around, his nose told him, while his ears told him she was running at a decent clip.

He picked up a faster pace, to catch up. He could sprint fairly well, if not endure the fast pace over a long time. Fritjof's ears are trained on her, his curiosity taking joy at the thrill of a chase, even if only to say hello. He intersects a sandy haired figure, a color he could imagine of the sun bathed in clouds, his smaller figure skidding so as not to run into her once he comes around the trees. He reflects now that perhaps she would not want to speak with him while she is out enjoying a run, but already he has interrupted, appearing so abruptly. He tries to follow her apace, though he knows he will not be able to keep this speed for as long as she, comparing his shorter legs and slighter body to her towering shoulders and powerful, long legs.

"Lovely run," he says eventually, and starts to slow. He will not tire himself beyond the point of endurance, as he still has to make it back to his pack, but he enjoyed running with someone, even if it was a stranger. He waits a moment, to see if she will slow down with him, looking at her unique silvery eyes one last time as he stops, letting the catchy energy fade and his heart settle to its normal rhythm, enjoying the feel of gentle exercise, and softness of snow under large paws. Even if she did not stop to talk, it would be a good memory, this relaxing run.


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