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Description

“This place is even larger than the Everfree,” Latch mused. Placing a hand against the bark of a tree, one of countless others, she stepped onto and over the thick roots that sprawled out from its base. These woods looked to have been untouched, likely growing for centuries upon centuries. The diameter of their trunks, and the sheer size alone…
 
Hopping off the few meter high roots, Latch landed onto the soil with both a grunt and thump, her momentum carrying her onto her knees. Standing upright and dusting off her boots, Latch gave a brief scanning to her surroundings, curious as ever to where this hideout was. Wandering deeper with no set direction, Latch regularly craned her head about the area, looking past trees and shrubs for anything unusual… or anyone that was stalking her.
 
Slowing her pace briefly, and with a tired sigh, Latch angled her head upwards towards the treetops. “Why couldn’t I have had a map showing me exactly where it is…? I’ve been wandering for hours,” she groused. Overhead, while the dense cover of the treetops prevented much of the sunlight from streaming in, of what light did make it in had a soft, green glow to it. It was a bit dim, but it was enough to illuminate for forest floor of where she was.
 
With a loud groan, Latch rolled her head forward slumping slightly. She had indeed been wandering for hours, having stopped a few times to get a break, and with her supplies next to none, she had an empty pack resting against her back. She was heavily banking on finding this hideout and stocking up.
 
“Shank, why couldn’t you have given me some better directions dammit…” Latch muttered. With a sigh, she straightened her posture, carrying on with her head held as high as she could muster. She really considered sucker punching her friend the moment she saw him.
 
“‘Oh, it’s just in the woods!’” She mocked, snorting. “Yeah, thanks for those terrible directions…”
 
Resting a hand over her rapier, Latch continued to idly wander about in the woods, stopping every so often to carve a marker into a tree. It was a simple means to keep track of where she was going, and usually whenever she carved into a tree, she’d go off into another, different direction. Sheathing her blade, Latch gave another scan about the area, as she was about to head off into some random bit of the woods again, she paused.
 
Sniffing the air, Latch relaxed, catching the whiff of campfire in the open air. She was close. Rotating herself around, getting a bead on the general direction of the scent, she proceeded due left from her marker. Through shrubs, over roots, and around trees, the odor became stronger and stronger. Soon enough, she emerged into a partial clearing. Grass and the occasional shrub or sapling made up the area, amounting to what looked like a reasonably sized rocky mountain starting.
 
Near the base, a wooden door was left open while just a little into the mountain, a little chimney billowed smoke out into the woods. At the doorway, she spied her friend. A blonde colored stallion, clad in what looked like an old fashioned, commoner’s garb stood in the doorway waving. “I knew you’d find your way here!” He exclaimed, beckoning her over.
 
“Oh you’re going to get that sucker punch, Snow Shank…” Latch muttered, stomping across the glade. She would give him hell to pay for those terrible directions and then some.
 

 
It’s not always that Latch has something bad happen to her. Sometimes she’s just all alone out there in the wilderness.

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