A doe, elegant in its hesitance as it had stopped to sweep its eyes across the clearing, stepped lightly out into the open. It didn’t quite seem to have a purpose in it’s step, and it didn’t seem as if this was someplace she’d been before. The clearing was mid-sized, the rocky ground covered in a layer of thick, luscious moss. A piece of marble block lay, probably from some former building long forgotten, almost as if tossed to one side, and a couple of saplings tried to rise from the ground, but the large, spreading canopies of the trees around the clearing weren’t giving them much light to grow.
The light that did manage to get through dappled the ground in uneasy, anxious patterns, constantly shifting and fluttering. The rustle of the leaves, combined with the quiet songs of the disturbed birds, marked what was probably the winds of an oncoming storm, but for now the sky was clear, and the sun was bright. Angled above the clearing, it would appear to be