The forest is still, not a single sign of life Aemond sighs in frustration, cursing himself for this folly. Rumors of an oracle, a witch who grants power or divines fortunes, had drawn him in his desperation, and now he seems to be… lost? All that remains of the sun is a dim glow beginning to fade in the sky above the foliage, and he would soon have to rest his steed and find some water.

After some time, against all odds, Aemond catches sight of a cottage, nearly grown into the very forest itself with vines and curling branches weaving over the brick. Warily, he guides his horse over towards the fence, and tentatively heads up to knock on the door.