Outside 40: It's all downhill from here

[Deathkeeper]

The Weald
(Closed)
One young Artorias walks these woods today. He'd heard it was an area with certain odd energies, that often enough you could find fey and nature-spirits if you knew how to look.
Arty has no idea how to look, but he could probably use a little camping excursion anyway. The cities can get so loud and hard on his hooves. Sometimes he needs to get out a little, and if someone might say it's because of his race, he wouldn't argue, but he doesn't care much for such analysis. For now, he's content to just be wandering around the trees and grass and ponds, laden with the sparse few supplies he feels that he needs. His horse body barely notices the wait, leaving his upper half without the pack most hikers would need. And bare-chested for once, because he doesn't really think he'll find anyone out here to notice how he can't even remotely pull off that look (which he totally can if the audience is fond of muscular eighteen-year-olds, he just has no confidence in that aspect of himself) but there's no point in getting a shirt soaked in sweat if he needs it for neither appearance nor warmth.
Ah, well.