[it probably will be fine. he keeps telling himself that as they pass between thick, old tree trunks, and as they duck under low-hanging tangles. every once in a while he reaches out to touch something as he passes, seemingly gleaming some information from it that has him adjust their course slightly in one direction or another.
eventually, the trees get thinner, younger. more wildflowers and greenery spring from softer ground underneath them. small signs of an old fire are still here--sooty marks on the couple of older trees that withstood the blaze, downed logs that are more charcoal than anything, largely decayed and reclaimed by fungus and ivy and sprouting new life in their remains.
poetic, but more importantly, a little easier to walk around in. he doesn't know how much room Tek needs for this, but it seems like more is better.]
no subject
eventually, the trees get thinner, younger. more wildflowers and greenery spring from softer ground underneath them. small signs of an old fire are still here--sooty marks on the couple of older trees that withstood the blaze, downed logs that are more charcoal than anything, largely decayed and reclaimed by fungus and ivy and sprouting new life in their remains.
poetic, but more importantly, a little easier to walk around in. he doesn't know how much room Tek needs for this, but it seems like more is better.]