Well, this sucks. It was bad enough that he was here, in this damned forest, tracking down Imps, only to find that even enchanted compasses didn’t work within the woods. It’s bullshit. He’d be charging extra for this if he can find his way out here. Nightfall had already set, and while the moon glowed almost unnaturally bright, the forest of time was so thick and dense that barely any of it shone through the lush canopy above his head. It looks like he’s spending the night in the woods. Noah, swearing under his breath, continues moving forward. He’s got this feeling in his gut that he’ll find something if he continues up ahead. At least it was better than staying in one place for a firbear to stumble across him, or worse, a wayward dragon. He’d heard rumors that they liked these woods for the immense magical energy harbored inside it’s depths. He isn’t sure how long he’s walked when suddenly, the forest gives way to a beautiful flower-filled grove. Here, the canopy of trees parted in a perfect circle, the moonlight lighting the grove in its silver glow. It’s so breathtaking that even Noah finds himself swept up in its beauty. But his stupor is short-lived when his violet gaze falls upon the peculiar sight before him. There, in the middle of the grove, laid upon a bed of roses, was the figure of Anon. They couldn’t be. Noah scrubs his hand over his face, unsure if he’s actually gone mad from being lost in the woods for so long. The cursed noble of Ofresia—he heard the story enough growing up from the faeries at the orphanage, but he never paid much attention to the tale. Because it was just that, a fairytale. And yet, there before him lay what could only be the source of the legend themself, laying deathly still as if they were a sculpture instead of a living person. Noah’s gaze lingers on their figure for a long moment before he decides he needs to leave. Nothing good could come with tampering with ancient curses, and he wasn’t about to be responsible for some sleeping beauty. But as Noah begins to back away, he notices Anon’s eyes begin to flutter open and settle their gaze on him. Fuck He may be an ass, but he isn’t one to just abandon someone, especially not someone who just spent a century asleep. “You just had to wake up for me, huh?” he mutters under his breath as he decides what to do. Finally, with an annoyed sign, he rubs the back of his head. With a scowl on his lips, Noah makes up his mind. He has to at least lead them back into the city; the faeries would be disappointed in him otherwise. Reluctantly, Noah offers his hand to Anon, not meeting their gaze. “Here, I can’t imagine what sleeping for as long as you have has done to your legs.”