[OOC: She con be on the edge of Lake Raienia, Camlann or Ozland, whichever's more convenient!]

Titania rarely ventured forth from her bower in the winter, less so now that the was cold winter whether to speak of. She hadn't heard from her sister, but Mabb's presence still permeated the wood enough that its unnatural warmth during the winter had been replaced by icy chills and even snows. It irked Titania some, but not enough to keep her at bay when she felt the need to leave.

So far this winter she hadn't left her bower so far. Perhaps the fact that she had sudden and unexpected company was part of the reason.

But something was stirring in the woods, with the unseelie. There was some kind of gathering, organizing. At first she thought it must have been due to Arthur's war. But then she wondered if some unseelie had finally begun to pick up the pieces Oberon had left behind. Maybe someone wanted to lead them. Curiosity sent her through the woods away from her bower, wrapped in a warm cloak, seeking what knowledge she could find.

Tink was a boy. She was a boy. Broad shoulders, smooth chest, no boobs, and something between her legs she was by no means accustomed to. At least she was a pretty boy. She was the mirror image of Hansel, thanks to some crazy cookie from Ozland, she's tried to swipe a few more to see if they changed her back, but all she did was shrink and grow in size again. Fully human sized again, she trudged off into the Sleeping Woods, searching for Robin. She still had to report to him, and she had plenty to say.

Aside from the fact that she was a boy. It was a fact not exactly reflected in the way she dressed though. She was still decked out head to toe in pink, in an outfit that probably would have made Hansel less that thrilled to see "himself" in. Selfish as she was, Tink didn't care about Hansel's reputation. She had to talk to Robin. And then find out about that Carabosse witch and what had gone wrong.

For now though, finding Robin was her priority.

The Fool found portals to be a simple sort of magic.  If one wasn't expecting a door shape, it was easy to find doors anywhere.  And so The Fool did find a door, slipping quietly from an elevator in a New York City skyscraper to ... a forest.

Well, it could be worse.  The Fool didn't mind forests.  And it had missed, more than it cared to admit, the feel of magic.  Magic made all sorts of things easier, although that nifty little thing with all the buttons had been fun.  Not that The Fool had anyone to call.  But it very much liked that little earpiece.  And that one game.  Snake, was it?

Still, New York City was no place for it.  CEOs had no appreciation for the archetype, no patience for roundabout logic or obfuscated advice.  Neither did the Unlikely Heroes.  The Fool was very disappointed with the Potentials in that world, in all ways.  Not least of all their dress sense.

"Very old fashioned," it murmured to itself.  And then smiled.  Old-fashioned was rules.  Rules went with pride.  Pride was antithetical to its being.  Mostly.  Usually.

Hands in its pockets, The Fool began to stroll, its dress shoes scuffing the ground gently.

[backdated to sometime during the fall because Titania's hiding from oncoming winter and Cernunnos is pretty much in his prime]

Autumn was heavy in the Sleeping Woods, and the cool was creeping in. For the second year in a row, there was a cold snap to the air that hadn't been there prior to Mabb's arrival in the world. Titania felt sure that this shift was permanent, a stronger balance between the warmth of the summers and the cold winters that should have existed in the woods to begin with. When Oberon was king, was still present and ruling his fey, there was still no true winter in the warmth of the woods. Titania took it as a sign that the woods were more suited to spring and summer than fall and winter.

Or maybe it was a sign that Oberon's power wasn't as well accepted in these woods as it had been in their former home. Either way, true winter had only existed since Mabb had come. the balance between herself and her sister had been reestablished.

Titania wasn't quite sure how she felt about that.

To that end, she had returned to her bower, the only place in the woods that stayed warm, even throughout the winter. Dressed in dark clothing, she stepped inside, doffing the dress she wore to don a rather see-through dressing gown in the same pattern. She wasn't expecting company, not even Peaseblossom, as she moved through her bower.

The night had begun to fall on London. Stories were being told to children around the world and within the stone house at the end of  the row. A chilly air blew in from an open window. Wendy in her old form, now having watched her own grown up daughter put her children to bed, smiled to herself as she climbed the stairs to the attic. Her small candle flickered, making the shadows dance on the wall as she entered the room. Tears welded up in her eyes as her own shadow flickered about, teasing her about growing up.

The stars twinkled shining their light down into the room, the moon herself flooding a small area with silver beams. The pool of light hit only up a wooden chest carved with scenes of pirate ships and faeries and children sleeping in trees. A precious item was hidden within it. One Wendy had put away as a child for when she had grown up. She accepted that she had to grow up, but now she was old, now her stories had been passed on to the next generations. Opening the chest, the inside glowed gold, forcing the moons silver away. There were only a few nicnacks within it. A teddy bear, John's silly Sunday hat, an acorn botton necklace, and a small bag. Within the bag was the precious faery dust that Wendy had kept all this time. Smiling to herself sheput the necklace on and threw it up in the air around her and as it rain down upon her, she felt it lift her spirit high into the heavens. She was flying again.

Suddenly she was flying through the clouds above strange lands. This was not what she remembered Neverland looking like. One area had a large city sprawling on for miles. Then there were trees, a beautiful sea of forest sprawling out before her. It was magnificent. Looking at her hands, Wendy realized that she was no longer old. Her skin was soft and smooth. Though not as young as she had been in Neverland, she was a young woman again. When had she not been? The memories of her life since right before she got married slowly started to fade, leaving only the memories of Peter Pan and her siblings, the Lost Boys and where they may be now.

"That will be the perfect place to land," she said to herself. This time she would land properly, not being shot down and falling out of the clouds. She skimmed the tops of the trees, letting her hand feel the leaves that tried so hard to reach for the sun. Then she saw a ship, a pirate ship; her eyes went wide as she realized that the ship was that of Captain Hook's. "But... I thought he died..." She started falling, falling fast to the ground. It was fortunate that a large pile of leaves and moss lay in wait for just such a fall.

Thanks to a soft breeze and a sandy shoreline, the Jolly Roger made it quite safely around the coast, to its final resting place off the shore of the Sleeping Woods.  As sheltered a spot as Hook was likely to find, and certainly plentiful in wood.  That struck off at least one of the necessary materials to properly repair the ship, though where he was to find any tar, only God knew.  He lifted his good hand, flicking out the compact telescope with a neat, practiced movement of the wrist, and brought it to his eye to survey the landscape.  Trees, and more trees, and just a small beach with the tide so high.  But the tide would lower, leaving the Jolly Roger's shallow hull almost dry on the sand.

Hunter was in the Sleeping Woods again. He had been back in Mehrdadstan for some time since his interesting encounter with Cernunnos, but had been drawn back to the magical woods he'd lived in before he met the queen of the desert kingdom. He wouldn't be gone for long, he'd told her, only a few hours at most. Striding across Pentamerone in his seven league boots got him wherever he wanted to go in record time. So he'd gone to the woods.

He stood beneath the shade of a tree, smelling winter on the air. He held onto the scent, his eyes closing as he focused. Darkness behind his eyelids gave way to a shadowy form, a loping wolf. In his mind's eye, the hunter met the wolf, and the two regarded each other, as equals, as two halves of the same whole. They changed places, the hunter going to stand in the shadows, and the wolf moving forward, where the man had come from, into the light.

( Hunter felt prickles along his skin, but he didn't move. )

Arthur strode through the woods, lost in thought. It was good that Queen Scheherazade and her... Hunter would not become involved in this conflict. There was no real need for them to be, and it made things messy. This was really between him and Mordred. As he walked through the sun-dappled woods, leaves beginning to change into vibrant hues of saffron, copper and ochre, he sighed. There were so many things that he wanted to see in this new land, but simply knowing that Mordred and Guinevere were here made him want to take care of things with them.

Again he sighed. If only he had more resources. Perhaps he would find Goodfellow and speak to him of any news from Camlann proper. Or recruit someone new? He would have to think about that.

Sir Galahad felt as if he had a weight settled on his chest. He had barely been eating and slept only a few hours a night. He was concerned over the upcoming war. He was worried, both for Arthur and for Guinevere despite the fact that he had never spoken those words to anyone. He wasn't sure what to do any more, and so he was in the process of doing what he always did when he wasn't certain on what to do next; he was praying. He had moved into the woods to take some time for himself, and was resting in a patch of grass.

He sat on his knees with his head bowed and his hands pressed together in front of his chest. "My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things." His words were spoken in soft yet confident tones. "I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin. Our Savior Jesus Christ suffered and died for us. In his name, my God, have mercy." He licked over his lips and made the sign of the cross over his body as he had been taught to do.

The conversation with Arthur Pendragon left Hunter a little unsettled. It had been quite some time since he'd seen Goodfellow last, and he wondered if it was indeed the same little green fey that had spoken to Arthur. Not only that, he was interested in seeing the preparations for war himself, as if to be certain it would not stray south, nor be too detrimental to his trading.

He spent the night with Scheherazade, wrapping her in his large warm body, as he'd begun to grow accustomed to doing, but the next morning, he dressed, and set out his seven league boots. After a conversation with the queen, assuring her he'd be back by evening, by the next day at the latest, he set out, taking only the few steps necessary to reach first the Sleeping Woods. It would be harder to find one lone fey than to see the city, so he thought he'd start looking for Goodfellow first.

His nose twitched at the smells in the woods. The smell of magic was a little darker, richer, than during spring or summer. But that wasn't all he smelled. There was an overpowering scent of nature itself, of the woods, but whatever it was wasn't just to woods. It was living, breathing, moving. Hunter took off his seven-league boots and tucked them away. Curious, and with his nose twitching, he set out to find the source of the scent. Goodfellow could wait.

Sophie picked her way through the wooded area, trying to be careful, but not managing to escape snags and stumbles as she went. A soft curse would escape her every few minutes as she picked her way into the woods, louder when she felt her skirt ripped. She made a face, yanking it away from the bush, and wondering what she was doing out here yet again.

That's right. They'd need to refill some things. And Howl had told her they'd be out here. And damn him, she'd volunteered to go grab them.

She sighed, leaning against the tree and digging out her list. She was almost done. Then she'd be able to slip home and take a nice warm bath. A very long, very arm bath. In which interruptions would get you killed, or at least seriously maimed. Yes, that sounded nice.

The weather was slowly getting cooler. It was still warm, still the end of summer, but fall was coming soon. Mowgli wanted to travel, wanted to take Swan with him now that the other mac could leave the lake in the woods. The Rajani Jungle was the first place Mowgli had been to in this new world that wasn't his, and he wanted to show it to Swan. It was the only other place he'd been to that was a wilderness, that wasn't a big city he felt uncomfortable in.

But he wasn't in a rush to get there. The woods were comfortable; their home was there. But there was a lot Swan was missing. and Mowgli felt he was the one who should show it to him. He was daydreaming and thinking all this as he walked, and found himself walking a bit aimlessly through the woods. He paused in a clearing, thinking what he should bring Swan back this time. Flowers? Berries? Maybe something a little hardier to eat.

He sat cross-legged at the base of a tree idly chewing on a piece of grass as he thought. He was never gone too long, but he always brought something back. And usually managed to have some kind of adventure on the way.

After having "bamfed" around Pentamerone, The Cheshire Cat decided it was time to take a nap.  This world is entirely too big to keep teleporting around.  Honestly someone should really be carrying me.  That city...Camlann was it... was decidedly too loud for a proper nap.  Where could I possible go that would suit my purposes.  "Oh what could that be?  A rather large wood.  A few short teleports and I should end up somewhere rather comfortable.

A few short "jumps" later, The Cheshire Cat came upon a beautiful lake situated in the woods.  He "jumped" once more and settled on a branch of a tree overlooking the lake.  "This is perfect!  A good twelve hour nap and I'll be ready to wreak some havoc somewhere."

A squire! And not to just any knight. He was a squire to the most famous knight of all! Or, well, that is what Lancelot claimed about himself. Theophile had no reason to doubt it, for some how the man had given him the courage to tell one Hell of a good lie, one that people actually believed! They had clapped and everything!

Theophile had spent the majority of the evening getting claps on the back and accepting offers to buy him drinks. There came a point where he had just one glass too many, but he really couldn't refuse all this kindness. He was prompted to retell his story over and over again for private audiences, and with each telling, and each cup of wine, it got a little more fantastic. Sadly, his voice just wasn't up to such abuse, and eventually all he could manage was a sort of croak. He started to feel as though he had been gargling sand. Quite unpleasant. And so he decided to call it a night.

Well. He tried. He had gotten a room, and was putting away his meager belongings when he discovered something was missing. A bracelet given to him by his mother. It was a simple thing, a bit of twine slipped through a collection of bright, opalescent shells from her girlhood home by the sea. Theophile had never seen the ocean, and always marveled at her stories. After the incident with the wolf, his mother had given him the bracelet, claiming she had always considered it her good luck charm, and that of all the people she knew, no one needed luck more than her poor, foolish, youngest son.

Where could it be? It must have fallen somewhere...First he searched the inn, and then attempted to retrace his steps through the city. All to no avail. Some how he wasn't surprised. He knew it could only be one place...Somewhere deep in the wood where he had found himself earlier that day.

The thought of going back to search made him feel ill. But the longer he left it, the less of a chance he had to find it. Or at least, that was his logic. But to go there at night! It was the stuff of nightmares! He would ask for some companionship, but he was too shy to request things from strangers. And besides, it would ruin his story if he admitted to being afraid of the woods. He'd be a laughingstock again! Well...he wouldn't let that happen. Besides, he had fought a wolf, and survived, so...so...well, what could be worse? And after telling his tale so many times, a part of him had begun to believe it. Or maybe that was all the wine he had drunk...

So here he was now, slowly creeping through a dark wood, a lantern sweeping side to side over the leaf strewn path, shaking to his bones. He told himself men walked through forests at night all the time, and not all of them were killed. Though...this was a particularly creepy wood...

For the love of God, where was that bracelet!?

When Titania returned to her bower, it was blessedly empty. She indulged in her own sleep, trying to ignore the fact that the bed was still slightly warm, and smelled...well certainly not like her. It was a deep, woodsy, and masculine scent she begrudgingly attributed to Cernunnos. It would be gone soon enough though, when the plants finally released the memory of him. They drooped just a bit in his absence, but gentle words and and a tender touch had them blooming brightly again. The greenery may have responded to him better, but, despite her often unpredictable personality, nature was something she truly respected.

Ironically had she and Cernunnos gotten off to a better start, that was something they could have shared.

In a far better mood now though, Titania walked through the woods, barefoot, fingers trailing along the plants. She was clothed in another flowing gown, this one a rich summer green. It complimented her hair, and made her eyes stand out - she made certain of that. A simple crown of flowers adorned her hair, not the high-faluting golden crown she usually wore in her season.

She had a destination: the pool Mabb had blasted nearly six months ago. There was no way then Titania could have repaired the damage to the glen then - it had been left a ring of blackened and dead grass. The small pond had thawed on its own, but the ground was too damaged to renew with spring.

Until now. In the glen, standing in it center, toes planted in the earth, Titania closed her eyes and sent her power through her fingertips and through her toes. All around her the grass grew in again, flowers blooming, slowly but surely until the entire glen was restored to its former beauty. Titania opened her eyes and surveyed her work.

Now he was without his faerie. He couldn't quite believe how things had played out. The very idea of Tinkerbell jaunting off with that little green freak... It burned him deeply and he punched several trees in the Sleeping Woods before he realized that this was probably better in the long run.

Better she abandon me now.

That was a strangely familiar thought, though it didn't jog any memories of Wendy's betrayal, nor even of his own mother forgetting him once he'd run away to Covington Gardens. Peter vowed never to trust women ever again; again it was something he felt true, but he didn't understand why.

He wandered for some time, picking his way between the trees and keeping an eagle eye out for his lost boys, tirelessly searching and hoping that he might find even a trace of them to lead him in the right direction.

Titania was irritated. No, she was infuriated. How dare that interloping, irritating incredibly attractive man dare come into her bower and then treat her in such a way? It didn't occur to her at all that she was overreacting - he had intruded! And the fact that the plants refused to do anything to him... Her cheeks went splotchy and she immediately glamored herself to hide the angry flush. She hated to be made to look the fool, even - especially - if by her own doing. She's stormed out on that Cernunnos, but only after ensuring he'd have a restless unpleasant sleep. Using nature against him may not have worked, but her illusions worked perfectly well.

Heading to her bathing pool once more, Titania sent out a Need, a Calling to Peaseblossom. Wherever the fairy was, she'd feel her mistress's call and come. Titania needed her company.

Lancelot half woke to someone nudging his shoulder.  Damn monks, he thought, can't even let an old man die in peace.  The nudging at his shoulder continued, and Lancelot finally gave up and opened his eyes, a snarky comment ready for the High Abbot...

Caterpillar found himself somewhere in the woods. There were birds chirping, but for the most part his ears were focused on each step he took. It wasn't that he didn't like Ozland -- he simply wanted to get out and travel a bit, since he never truly had the opportunity to do so before. He wanted to see the new lands that he found himself in, and the woods were beautiful.

He, of course, noted that they were different from his home land, but then again everything looked different to him now. Knave had been enormous before, and while the man was still large, it was in a much different way than it had been before. He found that the entire world, his entire perception of the world, was much different now that he was a man.

Either way, he was walking casually down the path, counting his footsteps. Four hundred and nine, four hundred and ten... As he counted he realized that his head was starting to clear -- something that he would no doubt have to take care of soon.

Arthur and Galahad moved through the woods at a reasonable pace, but they found that their going was slow.  The two decided to stay in the sleeping woods one more night.  At least, Arthur thought, we will be well rested tomorrow when we get back.  I don't want any traces of that madness on my face.  Wizard Howl may not know what to do, and I don't want to scare any of his workers.  Arthur decided to make camp this time, and sent Galahad off to find edibles and firewood.  He wanted to think for a bit, so he got up and went for a small walk, trying to keep within sigh of the fire.