It was funny how the louder you were in the woods, the less chance you had of seeing anything besides trees, trees, and more trees. Gowan wouldn't have minded the appearance of one of the fuzzy little animals who seemed to populate the forests in so many children's movies, but he hadn't seen so much as a chipmunk, and he wasn't about to count the spider that, after he'd stumbled into its invisible web, had proceeded to crawl up his face and scare him half to death before he'd dislodged it. He brushed his fingers through his icy-blue hair, unable to shake the feeling that it was still up there, crawling around.
Jostled about by Gowan's movement, Crow growled unhappily and reached up to nip the man's ear. It was a warning bite, just enough to hurt, but not enough to break skin. Gowan flinched, quickly lowering his arm as the Sad Sleepyheart curled back up on his shoulder and drifted off to sleep yet again. Despite his travelling companion's bad humor, he considered it his closest friend. Unlike his brothers, who had their own life to live, Crow never left his side. Sometimes he felt that its company was his only tie to sanity.
A motion caught his eye and he stopped, watching as a doe and her fawn moved out from between two trees. He held his breath, trying for the first time since entering these woods to be quiet and still. They didn't seem to notice him, although the doe's ears swiveled cautiously about as they passed by. The fawn followed her, and he observed with amazement how soft its fur seemed. White spots marked the fawn's tawny coat, showing its youth as clearly as the bounce in its step did. Unable to resist, he reached out a hand to touch it-
And they were gone, vanished into thin air. Gowan's heart fell as he turned his gaze downwards. No hoofprints in the dirt. No crushed leaves or anything to show there had been any sort of creature here within the past day or so. He rubbed a hand over his face tiredly, fighting the urge to reach for the flask he always carried with him. No matter how often time shifted for him, it always felt real, so real that it was impossible not to be fooled by glimpses of the past or future.
For a long time he stood motionless, hunting desperately for any sign that he was standing in the here-and-now, but it never came. It never did.