He remains silent as he dwells through a vast swamp, torch held above his head with his left hand, his hood pushed by soft breezes amidst the trees and the path. His steel boots make soft, metallic thuds against the ground which shifts between loose pebbles, frail twigs, and dirt.

“Hm..?”

He grunts softly as he hears a sound to his right, his right hand grazing the hold of his own blade wearily as he begins to take steps towards the source, slow, deliberate, and cautious.