Ever since Magnus had made it his mind up that he would do his best to help those around him lost and confused and hurt following the shake up, he had not stopped moving. He hunted through the meadow for those who had once called the Gates home; he hunted through the Forest, searching for anyone who was in distress. His muscles ached from all of the traveling, but he continued to push himself, well past the point of exhaustion. His coat was slick with sweat and his breaths were deep as he galloped from the meadow to the field, his stride eating up the familiar path as he powered through the grass and weeds.
When he breeched the border of the familiar land, he felt a pang in his heart, remembering all the times he had found his way here. Hunting amongst the bodies and helping guide them onto the next chapter of his life. Even coming here to find his own purpose when it felt like he had nowhere else to turn. Looking out on it now, it was clear that the energy was different. There was a fear and confusion that settled into the crevices of the land; it permeated the space of everyone—causing their mouths to thin and eyes to darken.
It was the quiet sound of crying that caught his attention though, and he whipped his head around to try and find the source of it. When he saw her, lying there, he pivoted. His stride was long, urgent, but he slowed as he neared her so as to not scare her. Dropping his head down, he took inventory of her quietly, noting the scrapes and the bruises. “Are you okay?” he asked gently, his whiskey-voice quiet in the silence that suddenly reigned in the area around them. “The trek down the mountain was not an easy one.”
magnus
could not help myself!
![[Image: gqYjsHr.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/KjqNDKxc/gqYjsHr.png)