Chimper #4150
Kairen the Tidal was not someone who got lost. They could read the mood of the ocean in the clouds and navigate by the scent of salt on the wind. This expertise made their current predicament—stuck in a forest of rustling amber leaves—all the more infuriating. The map had promised an “azure expanse,” neglecting to mention it was a field of bluebells. Now, their attempts to apply maritime logic to botany are a local spectator sport. They try to take “soundings” with a long stick, only to disturb a sleeping badger. They refer to the wind in the canopy as “the leafy tide” and insist on plotting a course with a sextant. Their ancient sabre, once a terror of the high seas, is now an excellent skewer for the berry tarts the locals keep offering. They maintain, however, that the ocean is just over the next hill.
