The Wandering Druid

There was a gentle breeze going through the forest, rustling the leaves of the large trees. A mixture of oaks, different fruit trees, and even a few young redwoods. The faint chirps of birds were in the distance, making the forest a perfect, tranquil atmosphere.

A large being walked past a young redwood, his fingers brushing against the bark. His eyes glanced around, looking through the trunks. They sharpened, trying to focus past the morning mist. He let out a low sigh, a visible breath from the cold air. It was a chill morning, perfect for a walk out from camp. The monster of a man, Berard, moved his hands into his hair. He dug the large digits into it, proceeding to move his arms frantically, his long hair puffing up in tangles and twists. Berard stretched his arms out with a yawn, closing his eyes. He leaned back, stretching his arms behind himself, his spine creating a few slight pops. As he stretched, he inhaled the frigid air. He paused his stretch. Berard straightened himself with a grunt. He sniffed. Something was off. He could smell it. Something between the scent of morning dew, and the musk of raccoons and deer. It was a familar scent to his own, except for the faint bear smell. Warmth, sweat. A certain stink of human.

Berard's eyes flicked around the scenery. Human's weren't uncommon around the forest. There were traders, hunters, a traveling trope, or even the occastional transport carriage. Berard hummed, then started moving through the brushes. His large form seemed to stomp, old branches and leaves crunching beneath his feet. Berard followed the scent, feeling his heart beat with both curiousity and excitment. Berard loved meeting new people after all. The stories they shared, the jokes, the music, the food!

As he walked through the trees, the morning mist breaking as he passed, Berard tilted his head up. He allowed himself to sniff the air once more, trying to pinpoint the direction of the smell. The druid froze suddenly, his feet stopping in place. He could no longer smell the stink of a human. Instead, there was a worse scent. One that gave Berard a shiver, a faint feeling of dread sinking into his stomach. As Berard inhaled one more time, just to make sure he wasn't losing himself to caution, he picked up another scent, one that made the dread in him soldify into a rock.

Smoke...and blood.

The druid's eyes widened for a moment, before sharpening. Something happened. His feet started moving before he could even comprehend it. It started off slow, cautious. Then Berard quickened his pace, soon stomping through the forest. He ducked and leaped past the branches and roots, his heart starting to pound as the scent grew stronger with each stomp.

What felt like an entrnity passed, before a clearing came into view. Within that clearing, there was a small structure, soot black. Berard slowed his footing, his lungs burning. He lifted his head, his eyes jumping around the area as he approached. He stepped through the trees, and onto the clearing, the flat dirt road under Berard's feet. His head jerked to his right, towards the structure. He stared at it, seeing the blackened wood crumble slightly under a particularly strong breeze. Berard inhaled as he slowly approached it. Smoke and blood. This was it. He walked around, getting to the side of the structure. It seemed like it used to be a carriage. It had similar structure...or it used to. Berard glanced around, curious about the blood smell. If there was anyone inside it, he wouldn't be smelling blood. His eyes wondered over the carriage, seeing the thin wooden wheels having long since crumbled, now in black soot pieces and piles. They followed the burnt structure, slowly taking in the details of the carriage, charred into an uneven mess. Berard walked along the charred mess, then he froze, finding the source of the blood smell.

Two corpses, limp and cold. Berard's eyes widened upon seeing them. The corpses were horses, still attached to the burnt carriage. Their large necks covered in blood, seemingly being slit. Berard's steps slowed to a stop in front of the two cadavers. "Poor things..." He whispered, reaching a hand out and placing it on the head of one corpse. He moved his other hand, and did the same to the other. His fingers brushing against the manes. 'Someone managed to stop the carriage, then killed the horses, stranding whoever was inside the carriage. Meaning whoever was inside...was trapped.' Berard looked back at the carriage, continuing his thought. 'This wasn't a random act. Whoever was in there was wanted dead.'. Berard pat the horses one more time, before he stood.

He started to walk towards the side once again, glancing towards the door. Berard lifted a hand, nudging at it. The door fell off the hinges, clattering to the dirt. Berard looked into the carriage, peeking into it. Nothing was inside. Even if there had been a person, the bones would still be around. He made a hum, his eyes scanning the interior. A breeze came through, spreading soot into the hair, Berard's hair lifting around him. He heard a squeaking as the breeze calmed, making him lift his head.

On the other side of the carriage, there was another door. It was hanging on the hinges, the wind pushing it open. No body nor bones...and a broken swinging door. Berard immedatly pulled his upper half out from the carriage. Whoever was in the carriage escaped! Berard leaned his head back, letting out a loud huff, before he inhaled deeply, trying to catch a scent. Any scent. Anything to tell if whoever it is, was still alive. He side stepped along the carriage, letting himself walk slowly as he breathed in.

Smoke. Soot. Blood. Too close. Dew, chilled air, faint wet fur, sweat.

Sweat.

Berard's head shifted towards the direction of the scent. It smelled close. He hopped over a wooden pole, still attached to the side of the carriage, before he went into the side of the forest the carriage was on. Thankfully, the scent wasn't too far, so he could just lightly jog as most. Didn't want to scare whoever it was by charging towards them as a large being. Berard stepped, then he picked up his pace. His head was on a swivel, doing his best to follow the scent. He stepped through the thick grass, his heart pounding as minutes passed, and no luck finding whoever it was. He had to find them! They could be badly hurt! They could be...

Berard went to shake his head, not wanting to even think about that, but he froze mid shake. There was something. A russle of the foliage. It was faint, yet it was nearby. As if it was caused by the shuffle of a leg, it resting after a long journey. The druid slowed his steps, doing his best to listen for anything other movement. He held his breath...then another rustle.

There!

Berard's head snapped towards the direction of the rustle. It was extremly close. He walked through the foliage, turning his head to look behind each tree he passed. He took another quick inhale, pinpointing the missing being. He stepped past a young redwood, and turned his head to look behind it. A being was laying against the trunk. Their garments were dirtied and tattered, the bottom of them singed. Their skin...a fiery, angry red. Berard's eyes widened, and he kneeled down next to them. He lifted a large, gentle hand, and pressed it gently against their head, tilting it to examine their weak, slightly soot covered face.

"By the gods...please still have a beating heart..." He whispered as his fingers tapped along their cheeks, not wanting to startle the poor thing.

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