Hollow Hunting

[Malcolm Green]

The Hedge was quiet and wrapped in a cold fog. That was a function of the season as much as it was the expanding effect of Green's mantle and presence.

Trees and briars rose up on either side of the trod, which seemed to press down perceptibly upon the winding path. Neither dawn nor dusk, the light was a diffused grey-green colour that faded out into rank upon rank of shadow beyond the path. Snap frozen in the sharp air of his mantle, light glistened like suspended gemstones and gently drifted to the ground. This Wintery vista was one of isolation and secrecy, rather than cold. It was a rare convergence of emotive currents, and it led Green to wonder just what was going on in the deeper places to conjure such a manifestation such as this.

The mountain loomed at one side of the path. In the gloom he could almost pass for part of the scenery as he waited, standing passively in his patched greatcoat with his sling-bag over his shoulder and his big fists in his pockets. His deep set eyes were staring forward, scanning the path where it split into two; behind him the trod wound its narrow way back to the Freehold (this wasn't on the main trod but a subsidiary path). To Green's mind, the local Lost kept too much to the main trod that opened out into the park at the heart of the city; this was his way of branching out.

Waiting patiently, he wondered again if his comrades had received the message: the new motley needed a Hollow and the mountain wanted to find one quickly - their pledge would only stand for a season and he wanted to get started as soon as possible.

For reference purposes Green is waring his Greatcoat, a pair of gloves and his carrying his penny. His bag contains a bottle of water, some trail rations, and his small ax.

Xander @Nathen Griffin Gwydden

[Nathan Griffin]

The Hedge put him in a wistful mood.

It was his shame, almost, something he'd rather keep hidden from other 'lings. He wanted to let go, to just make his way through the briars until he had left everything behind him and entered that other place that had often seemed as close to Heaven as it was to Hell. There were days when he wanted to return, and he wanted it badly. But then he remembered the pain and the fear, how little and insignificant he had felt. Faerie isn't meant for the likes of me.

This was the closest he could get without coming into danger, and he enjoyed every moment of it. Even the air smelled different, thought that may have just been him. He admired the view, one that seemed so alien to Sacramento, and stopped every so often to place his hands on the trees along the path. Yep, solid. Every time a sense of urgency overtook him, compelling him to take quicker steps to find his new motley-mates. It was all he could do to fight the longing. When he reached a turn he was overtaken by an impulse. He leaned down and removed some earth on the side of the trot with his bare hands. He then took off his feather pendant and buried it there, making sure to cover it with the reddish earth.

Green seemed geared up for the task. More so than him, who other than a few basic supplies in his backpack had only gone out of his way by putting on some camo pants and combat boots. He wondered whether Green's ax was meant for hacking at trees or monsters. Or tree monsters. Or all of those.

"Hey, man," he took a look around their location. "I'm guessing Milo isn't here yet?"

[Milo Chernobog]

Milo made his way through to his motley without delay once he crossed over. He wasn't exactly at home in the hedge, so hopefully safety in numbers would ease his mind.

Well, it would when he found the numbers. Along the way he watched the frosted landscape with a small amount of glee. Arden didn't get as nasty a winter as some places, but the Fairest was slightly concerned he wouldn't see any signs of Winter while in Sacramento. The gemstone snowflakes were a welcome sight for the Fairest.

Several layers of fleece and cotton shielded Milo from lowered temperatures. A leather jacket offered protection, a backpack of supplies would offer nourishment, and the bowie knife suspended from his belt would ensure his end of the motley pledge was upheld in spades.

"Gentlemen." The Fairest greeted, hastily making his way over. "Hope I'm not too late."

Milo has his Reinforced clothing (leather jacket), bowie knife, and a backpack with water bottles and trail rations.

[Malcolm Green]

"Nah... Right on time, yeah?" Green rumbled, moving to face his motley mates. "I thought we might take a trip out, yeah? It seemed like we all wanted a Hollow, so we may as well start. Eh... Hope you don't mind me taking the path less travelled. Sometimes it feels like the only trod that ever gets used opens at the park. I wanted us to have some privacy."

Green jerked his mighty head in the direction the trod was leading.

"Path splits in two a little ways on, yeah. You fellows want to go left or right? Never been down this way, so its all new to me."

Was that a note of eagerness throbbing in his voice.

"What do you want in a Hollow anyways? I prefer caves and the like - but I'm open to pretty much anything right now."

[Nathan Griffin]

"Sup?" he said to Milo before turning back to Green. "You had me at path less traveled. What do you say to a coin toss?"

Either path was good for him, as long as they went further up and further in. Careful there.

"Caves sound good. I guess it'll depend on whether we find a nice spot."

[Milo Chernobog]

A cave? The dark the Shadowsoul was comfortable with, but the hard stone and cold left Milo wondering why pick such a place. Then he realized the abundance of rock might bring comfort to the Rock.

"Somewhere safe and reasonably comfortable." Milo answered. Cave wasn't what sprung to mind for him, but nothing said the right furnishings couldn't help alleviate the obvious concerns. He'd likely have to look into that himself though.

"Go right and you can't go wrong?" He looked to his motley mates, a small little smirk creeping forth.

[Malcolm Green]

Green cocked an attentive ear to his motley mates. Shrugging, he adjusted the shoulder strap of his bag and headed down the path with a slow, determined, walk.

"I hear ya," he rumbled in response to Milo's choice.

"I vote we keep the coin toss till we come to another cross roads or something. Can't go wrong, yeah?" He offered a conciliatory nod to Nathan.

He took the right path - a path with moss encrusted slabs as buckled as the landscape, and the trod that would its way between the bulging hillocks and tussocky mounds. The occasional street light lit the way, a brutal and forlorn reminder of the world beyond the hedge. Again, Green found himself wondering at the nature of the Hedge - where the lights relics of Autumn or concessions to the dominant Court of the motley? Since their pact had settled on him, he had found himself contemplating things such as this more often.

At least the fog didn't spill out onto the trod, but hung back safely under the twisted canopy of the mist enshrouded trees.

"Just sing out if you see something worth looking into yeah? I got some cantrips that'll bring us home safe."*

* Pathfinder (Contracts of Dream 1)

[Nathan Griffin]

He nodded back to the Mountain and strapped on his backpack to follow his motley mates. He focused on admiring the landscape. There was a history there, among the Braveheart-styled highlands and the incongruous street lights. True to his court for once, he was curious.

"How deep into the Hedge have you gone in the past? Not counting... y'know," he asked, grimacing at his own lack of tact.

[Milo Chernobog]

Milo followed in silence behind his guide through the hedge. He looked curiously at the lampposts, more because he thought technology wouldn't function in the hedge then interest in it's symbolism.

The Fairest continued down the path with his motley mates. Nathan's question got an interested look from him, and Milo watched Green for his response. The Durance reference didn't escape his notice, but neither did it seem to bother him. He wasn't digging at that patch of earth, and so Milo didn't feel the need to respond. He already said outside his durance he hadn't ventured into the Hedge much, so he simply followed and awaited the Mountain's response.

[Malcolm Green]

"I got some groves, yeah? I regularly harvest from 'em. Sometimes I try and patrol, like... but thats kinda hard as directions are... uh... odd... in these parts. And I've been up to the Meat Market on my own, like, a couple of times. You could say I got my own little paths. Uh. And I stick to them."

Green spoke as he kept on, pressing forward. It wasn't the complete truth, of course. He had also spent time in the Hedge scouting locations for the Onyx Court's cottage network; more recently there had been work he had done on behalf of the Freehold itself - but that was known only to a select few. Still, what he said comprised most of the truth and it would serve.

For now.