[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from her sister, but Mabb's presence still permeated the wood enough that its unnatural warmth during the winter had been replaced by icy chills and even snows.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.

[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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Titania had found her woods plagued visited by strange magic for months on end. Through most of last year she found growing pockets of magic, ones that she learned were tied to Mabb. Then there were the strange green leaves that were continuing to surface everywhere, especially places she frequented. Most recently came the sword Excalibur, in her own pool, which she'd given to its rightful owner. Everything was accounted for.

Except those leaves. The faces in them were compelling, to say the least. She wondered what exactly was behind them. Was it wild magic? Or was it someone's direct power? Neither made her entirely comfortable when she thought about the fact they'd appeared in her very bower. It was supposed to be that no one but who she deemed could enter it. She certainly hadn't given permission to whatever these things were, and yet they came in her woods, willy-nilly.

She was returning from her bathing pool now, going back to her bower. She didn't want any company, and even those she frequently invited to her bower would find it inaccessible at the moment. So why was it that she she grew closer, she felt another strong warm magic coming from the private place, one not her own. One that felt like a stronger version of those leaf-pockets she'd been seeing.

Someone was in there. She quickened her pace and entered, ready to rage at whoever had intruded upon her privacy.

[OOC: the post also known as HEY! Some watery tart wants to lob a scimitar at you!]

Titania returned to her bathing pool, her mind still preoccupied. She slipped off her dressing gown, and slipped into the water. She strayed to an edge of the pool, fingers trailing along the plants that leaned into her touch. She paused when she saw another of the green faces, perched in a cluster of leaves low hanging in a nearby tree. Fully naked, she gazed at it, wondering what magic that was. It was not the same as what brought her out there, what had her swimming out to where it grew deep again. The leaves were everywhere now, and sometimes she got the distinct feeling they were watching her. So she let them watch.

The sword was still there. She could feel its power in her pool. Truth be told she knew it didn't quite belong there; it was meant to be wielded by someone, someone who'd held it once before. The trouble was she didn't know who that someone was or how to go about finding him. The best she could do was return to it until it let her know. That's why she was there now. Maybe now she'd find answers to at least some of the questions she sought.

They were called the Sleeping Woods. Little did anyone consider why. Carabosse had once thought it a joke that so many sleeping memories lay hidden in the woods. Like memories of Oberon's part in Mabb's fate, and of Titania's own. Titania banished the thought with a flick of her wrist. She had not thought of Oberon in months, not since his treachery was revealed. Truly, Titania did not care deeply for her sister as some siblings did - not when they were rivals, opposites - but not one deserved to have her heart destroyed by the one she loved. If only Titania had know a thousand years ago how deeply Mabb's feelings ran whereas Oberon's seemed to not.

There had been no sign of Oberon in months. Titania spared him little thought, and less concern. Her focus was on the magics she kept sensing in the woods, alien, strange, new. It wasn't fey magic, though at times she felt a pulse of magic green as hers, and inextricably tied to the wood and nature itself. It intrigued her, centered always around those strange faces-in-the-leaves that were continuously about, even in her own bower.

But that wasn't all. There was another kind of magic drawing her, a force unlike any she'd encountered, and yet one that seemed oddly familiar. She followed it to her own bathing pool, and doffing her gown, slipped naked into the pool. In the center of the pool, where the water reached above her head - she rarely swam out so far, instead choosing to bathe in the shallower end - the pull felt strongest, and she dove beneath the surface.

When she resurfaced, she held in her hand a sword, gleaming metal that was not iron, but seemed made of magic itself. Runes were inscribed upon it, and it blade and hilt were both breathtaking. She knew this sword, had heard tales. Why it had come to her, to her pool, she was uncertain. But she knew one thing. She was Lady of this Lake, and she would give this sword to its rightful owner.

Perhaps for a price.

It wasn’t that Eros was bored, or lonely. The god of love never got lonely, which was really just a lie to himself, but nonetheless he currently wasn’t lonely. He sighed and stared out the window of his room at an inn, the people outside few and far between as it rained. The young god wandered around the room in his ridiculous pair of trousers, that he hated and left unclasped at any time possible. His wings twitched, itching to fly. It wasn’t really a good idea to fly in the rain, but he could once he made it to the forest.