[ The Greenwood in this world is peaceful and beautiful, the trees whisper kindly, surrounding every being that enters with love and affection. So ancient, so lush, so peculiar when compared to the forests of Middle-Earth. It's a sight to see and it quickly became Legolas personal favourite area, large and vast, and a comfort to wander in in either sunlight or starlight. He could live here, he certainly could, though at all times there has been a shadow on his mind, a shadow of a different desire. A gentle shush of waves haunted him in the times of rest, much as he tried to ignore it all. In Middle-Earth he wished not to leave too quickly, wished to stay until staying was no longer possible, his heart torn between the love of those who would remain, out of choice or out of lack of it, and the intense longing to set sail.
Here, it was impossible to sail to the Undying Lands period as he had quickly found out.
Another war, another conflict he has been pulled into, something he currently needed some respite from. Thus, here was he. Outskirts of the forest by the plains, or the mountains, or the heart of it, wandering without much aim and marvelling at its beauty. Bow in hand, as it always is, a single white knife of the elves at his back with a quiver of arrow to accompany it. Not even the softest sound manage to escape elven ears, and yet this forest is filled with so many of them that in the end even a wood elf can be sneaked upon, until it's too late and a crack of a branch gives away the approach. Legolas spins around, in a blink of an eye there is an arrow in his fingers, nocked on the string of the bow and pointed towards the approaching creature.
Friend or foe? Dumped between conflicted sides, warring with each other, surrounded by creatures many and various, unknown and unfamiliar, he honed a sense of a healthy wariness within his heart again. And many were first greeted with the shining and sharp tip of an elven arrow, shaped like a leaf, rather than with a friendly touch to a shoulder. Though he wished he could have put behind him the memories of the War of the Ring. ]
Halt! Who is approaching?
( OOC: OR HONESTLY ANYTHING ELSE... assumed CR is fine with cross-canon, since I'm going along with him having been there a while, etc, etc, etc. Basically chill to all the things. )
3 @ the great greenwood! open to all, brackets or prose
Here, it was impossible to sail to the Undying Lands period as he had quickly found out.
Another war, another conflict he has been pulled into, something he currently needed some respite from. Thus, here was he. Outskirts of the forest by the plains, or the mountains, or the heart of it, wandering without much aim and marvelling at its beauty. Bow in hand, as it always is, a single white knife of the elves at his back with a quiver of arrow to accompany it. Not even the softest sound manage to escape elven ears, and yet this forest is filled with so many of them that in the end even a wood elf can be sneaked upon, until it's too late and a crack of a branch gives away the approach. Legolas spins around, in a blink of an eye there is an arrow in his fingers, nocked on the string of the bow and pointed towards the approaching creature.
Friend or foe? Dumped between conflicted sides, warring with each other, surrounded by creatures many and various, unknown and unfamiliar, he honed a sense of a healthy wariness within his heart again. And many were first greeted with the shining and sharp tip of an elven arrow, shaped like a leaf, rather than with a friendly touch to a shoulder. Though he wished he could have put behind him the memories of the War of the Ring. ]
Halt! Who is approaching?
( OOC: OR HONESTLY ANYTHING ELSE... assumed CR is fine with cross-canon, since I'm going along with him having been there a while, etc, etc, etc. Basically chill to all the things. )