[Realm: Álfheimr]
[Location: Outskirts]
It had not taken long to reach another exit from the Great Forest.
Soon enough Grimm and Puck stood before it, facing a wall of dense, brittle trees. Their branches tangled overhead and between them hung a thick fog, so heavy it swallowed all depth and distance alike. Beyond a few paces, nothing could be seen. Just white-gray obscurity.
Grimm raised the black horn in his gauntleted hand, its scarred surface dull.
"Gier really does know her things," Puck said quietly, drifting closer to his side, her voice unusually subdued. "Even I don't fully understand how the Great Forest decides where you're allowed to go. I always thought reaching feral Deseruit Beast territory required something far messier." She glanced at the fog again. "But this? Just walking in with the right piece on hand?"
