that girl named tennessee

Scully had to admit it; his home had not been anywhere near as breathtaking as this grove of willows. Absolutely everything about this continent seemed to be more in all ways; more beautiful, more dangerous, more abundant, and the young man appreciated every facet. He walked amongst the roots and leapt from bank to bank, taking it all in. The Archer didn't normally take time to admire beauty, but something about this place proved particularly captivating. Made him want to slow down for a few hours for once.

Winter was definitely on it's way, which made the two months at sea seem even weirder than before, like they'd somehow existed out of the time stream for those eight weeks while teleporting to this land. Back home, Winter would already have the entire land gripped relentlessly in ice and snow. Of course, from the nip in the air to the withering of the plants and business of the lesser creatures in the wood, he could tell that something just as harsh, if not moreso, was coming. It just would weirdly be the longest Autumn of his life. Hopefully.

Scully supposed he and Avella should start planning for the coming season. His sister probably already had taken the initiative, and Clouse worried about everything, but right now the Archer wanted to push responsibility and survival out of his mind and just exist here, in a place both so similar to and so different from the place he was born.