Everyone is welcome, whether you be tourist or monster, prey or predator.<br/>(Note: Gwydir is in fact a real forest, but the forest in this RP is fictional.)<br/><br/>Gwydir woods, or Lost woods as the locals call it, is a rather large forest quite far from what most people call civilization. It is mostly unexplored and the few maps there is, only show small parts of it. As a matter of fact, most cartographers have vanished within the woods, but the locals don`t like to talk about it as it is bad for tourism.<br/><br/>The woods themself cover up a large area, encompassing both a small mountain and a lake. (Their original names have been lost by time, and thus are now only named as the Mountain and the Lake, or if the locals is in a humours mood, the rock and the puddle.) By the edge of the forest lies Gwydir village, the last remnant of hospitality for travellers which is dependant on tourism, travellers, campers, hippies and other wandering people to survive. The village doesn`t have any electricity and thus most modern day technology is not present.  (Doesn`t mean they are ignorant, they just live a simple life. With no internet, phones or any other means of contacting the outside world.)<br/><br/><br/>A blonde, average looking fellow who wore a black t-shirt, blue jeans and white sneakers with a height of 5'10 feet looked down on a table outside one of the souvenir stalls. There were wooden moose cut and shaped, a few t-shirts that said something along the lines of: "I`ve been to Gwydir woods and survived." He took off his glasses and wiped them clean with his t-shirt before pondering upon buying a mug with pictures of raccoons on them. He then looked at the price and come to the conclusion that it was a scam. He looked at the man behind the counter, a huge fellow in a red shirt who probably wrestled trees for a living. It was probably not a wise choice to haggle on the price.<br/><br/>He grabbed his large green backpack and headed towards the edge of the forest where a wooden sign stated the name of the forest. A dirt road went into the forest, but probably dispersed into trails after a mile or so. Bright, which was his name (well, not really, it was a nickname that got stuck.) took a look on his watch. His fellow campers should have been here by now.