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Character Horns

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Where Is This?

THE CROSSROADS // NOW

Horns' Next Post

Horns' Intro Post

Horns' boots thudded into dirt and soil as he landed. It was far from graceful, but at least he didn't fall.

The Half-Tor growled, touching the wound where that bullet had struck him. It was already closing, but it still stung. And his clothes were a mess now, riddled with holes and a lot more blood than usual. Horns, however, still pondered on the things said during his latest battle. Those men wore strange clothing and wielded weapons he had never seen before. He imagined without the forest at his advantage, the fight might have gone very differently. Not that it would matter much until he got back to Lodrun. Horns put those lingering thoughts aside to focus on this new and strange place.

He looked up, the void that had enveloped him mere moments ago creeping away to the edges of his vision, being replaced by the scenery of unworldly foliage. Blues and reds and purples and yellows, he wasn't sure he had ever seen anything like this before. It was as if one of those people, that's right, arters or artists had started coloring and painting everything in sight and had been doing so for years. Horns approached one of the trees near him, gently tracing his finger along the branches. He had never seen a tree with blue leaves before.

"Where is this?" He asked himself, scanning the forest floor and the skies for an answer. It was then that he noticed something curious. There was some sort of bubble above him, it pulsed as it flashed between views of different places. When he saw two bodies in a forest clearing, he recognized the places at various locations in Lodrun, this latest one being where he was just swept up from. Like that helped much, so he was definitely nowhere near where he had been at first, it still didn't tell him where exactly he was. Which meant he was going to have to find that answer himself. He turned at the sound of shifting foliage, his hand shooting to the grip of his bone blade out of instinct. Brows furrowed, Horns scanned the trees ahead with laser focus, picking out a figure in the foliage. He was being watched. His grip tightened as the shifting suddenly ceased, before whatever it was turned tail and scurried off. Horns growled, he was getting answers. That was no animal, and they were going to tell him exactly what and where this place was. Charging through the trees and branches after his quarry, Horns had failed to notice the dirt trail that this mystery person was leading him down, but in the grand scheme of things, it didn't really matter, now did it?

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