A leisurely stroll down fantasy's lane... Who: Oliver Ollivander, Orion Black, ?? When: Wednesday, near sunset Where: Forest south of London, half a mile east of Griffindor's home Why: To greet the trees, and explore the borders of the Nexus Rating: General Status: Open/Incomplete
Oliver laid his forehead against a young birch, and breathed out. It was nice to finally let the soothing presence of the sumptuous forest carry away the torrid mass of living, breathing, milling men in the City, and all the bundled energy they carried.
Closed all around him was the steady presence of straight trunks and tall reaching branches, leaving nearly no light to grace the ghost like presence stalking the trails. Ever so often, he would listen and touch, and softly convincing a tree to give a well grown twig in a lulling tone.
He missed the wilder days of his travels already. How could he have remained in London, year after year after year of cooping up in a mass of stone and steel and flesh?
Yet, his elation had been ebbing quickly, and the more Ollivander advanced, the more the land felt strange and forbidding, all senses screaming that there was something terribly wrong.
Ollivander was a stubborn man, and he had never felt unwelcome in a forest throughout his entire life. No matter how dangerous the beasts that dwelled in it, the trees themselves were his friends, and companions. But this, this was something so outrageous to the senses that he simply could not wrap his mind around.
Finally, it was no use to continue on further, as there was no ways that let him through any more. Oliver let his feet carry him back to a small clearing, ears ringing and eyes blank.
Not far beyond, the trees would slowly thin up to give way to a small cottage or two, though he couldn't feel their inhabitants at this distance. Solemn in his back stood the tall guards of the land, and their whispering songs unchanged by centuries passing.
It was then that the true horror of the place hit Ollivander.