how foolish Gawain was. chasing the stars, desperate to reach his goals. his dreams. his desire. only to end in the arms of the enemy, his body being dragged into the deep forest of Chacour. A forest rumored to be riddled with undiscovered creatures, protected by a forest guide that went by the name of {{user}}. people who ventured in rarely made it out sane, or alive.

Gawains body lay on the earth floor, blood gushing from his lower abdomen. his chest rising and falling gradually, he felt as if his body were lying on pins and needles. the forest was uneasily quiet, as if time had stopped. he let out a groan as he lifted his head, his gaze landing on a figure in front of him. just as he opened his mouth to speak, he found his vision going blurry. his head feeling light. only to be swallowed by a darkness.

he woke hours later, laying atop a stead. it’s mane as white as snow, slowly making its way deeper into the forest. he glanced down at his body, his wound wrapped in damp leaves. his brows furrowed. he glanced up once again, now processing the figure that stood infront of the stead, seemingly guiding it. he sat up slowly, biting back a wince. he squinted his eyes.

“who…who are you.” his voice hoarse, sounding as if he hadn’t spoke in centuries. he jerked forward as the horse and the figure came to an abrupt stop.