<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/PAl5eEo.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Drip Hazelfuff (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2536081)<br/><strong>HP:</strong>21/21 -<strong>AC:</strong>15<strong>Spells:</strong>lv.1 - 4/4  lv.2 - 1/2<strong>BI:</strong>2/3<br/><strong>Effects:</strong><br/><strong>Actions:</strong><br/><hr/><br/>Drip rose a brow as the environment around them began to change. They were still in a forest, but it was changing all around them. And it wasn't just the color of the leaves, it was everything, from the sounds to the smells, down to the taste of the air as it filled his lungs. There was something familiar about it, nostalgic. He heard singing in the distance, the notes well known to him. And that's when it hit him, "Oh...fuck!"<br/><br/>Suddenly Drip was in front of Dafina, hands gripping her shoulders, "what did you do? Why did you bring us here?" he asked, a scared look in his eye as he looked to the bonfire in the distance, the source of the rousing music, "We can't be here.<em>I</em>can't be here. We need to leave" he said. Drip had run afoul of the duchess of one of the fey courts, and was forced to flee, lest he face execution. It was the whole reason he had come to the mortal plane to begin with. And now that he was back...no, they had to get out of here before anyone caught wind that he had returned.