Wyatt Denvers

It`s not long before his in the hallway that leads him to his room; not noticing that he door is ajar before he pushes into the room and promptly beginning ripping clothes from his body, wanting nothing more than to be utterly naked before he collapses into his bed for the evening. His shirts flung somewhere into the room as he closes his eyes and when he opens it he`s greeted with the sight of someone he didn’t know to be of the servants in his room and is clearly not supposed to be where he was. “Lose your way friend?” He asks, no venom in just voice; instead a hint of hunger. 

Grabbing a small backpack for the essentials he’d needed, Javier locked his door and headed out to his jeep to head off to the party; listening to silly Halloween music as he drove. Pulling into the driveway of the party where he parked and exited his vehicle, locking it and backing up a step before he bumped into someone and turned round to see a taller mirror image of himself. “Looks like I’m not the only nerd here tonight, nice costume dude.” He chuckles to the stranger in the Red ranger costume.

“Life is an adventure Helios, from the time you enter the world till when you pass on from this realm you adventure.” He mused as it’d been his experience of the world; though he didn’t know his own upbringing wasn’t the common among all the folk across the lands. “Not that I need to prove myself to anyone here, but I live to roam and explore so... obviously I’m going to say yes.” Wyatt chuckles as he raises a hand to the other and shakes his head. “Believe what you hear my friend; things had an odd chance of being true in our world. No matter how far fetched the tale is, there’s so shred of truth to it and to dismiss it is utter folly.” He spoke from experience, having encountered many creatures in his travels and having found himself needing to defend himself against some fearsome beasts  he couldn’t imagine.

“No need for that Helios, I’ve never wore boots before and I refuse to start now. This man worked stone is only bothering my feet because it’s not natural, once we step off the path and into the softer unbeaten path I’ll be fine.” Wyatt dismissed the idea of wearing any footwear, as he knew his feet were calloused from their constant exposure to the rough terrain Wyatt sped through; having developed a strength to the pads to a point where he rarely noticed he was bare footed. “Now come on and lead me to this marsh, I’m excited to explore.” He ushers the other, point his staff forward as he continues to walk; even finding himself speeding up in impatience.

“Illusions are merely ways to past the time, as the for staff; it’s a burden of love and a rite of passage.” Wyatt shrugged as though they were nothing, despite both being significant within the woods he usually padded around in. “In many respects, what I’ve demonstrated is mere child’s play. Where I’m from the magic runs deep into the earth and it bends to my peoples will with practiced ease. Everything thrums with life and energy.” The words spoken with deep passion, Wyatt eyes close as he imagines the many memories he’d made in his native land; opening his eyes before taking a deep breath.

“Illusions can be very convincing can’t they?” He mused as the barren illusion was but a front to keep outsider away; maintained through ritual and sacrifice, though potent in it’s sway to those untrained. “I wouldn’t name my people as a colony, more like loosely found wildflowers in a meadow; spread out across the largest field you’ve ever seen.” Wyatt chuckles as druids really only congregated for special rituals, though never more than small groups that are draw together by each others energy.

Cocking his head to Leo, Wyatt shrugged as he pondered upon the question. “Depends on the kind of help you need I suppose.” He offers to the other, hand moving up to stroke the short hair of his chin. “Well I do love exploring and marshes too.” Wyatt hums for a moment and nods. “I think I shall accompany you into these marshes Leo, it’ll get me away from here and into somewhere... more natural.” He mused, as he looks down to his barefeet on the cobblestone footpath; something that was causing slight pain since he begone traveling on it.

Following the others eyes, Wyatt felt a smile settling upon his face; before lifting his staff for a moment and slamming it down releasing a cloud of butterflies. Several children nearby shrieked with excitement and Wyatt simply shrugged. “I crafted it myself, spent my years growing the tree and gather all the other assorted bits and baubles.” He informed the other, which was an amazing feat in and of itself; very little of the druid’s secrets where known to the common folk and even less about their magicks. 

“Wyatt.” The earthen witch identified himself while offering his hand to the other. “Druid from the Island of Yumea... most nobody knowns me in Warfell.” Wyatt looks around the square as he wanted to confirm that he knew no one around him before nodding to the other. “My people don’t typically venture where civilization exists.” He states though figured it was known by the way several people had reacted to his presence. “So Leo the magical troublemaker, have you not learn to master your gifts yet?” He inquired, as within the forests of Yumea when the Elders learn of emerging magic; they tutor said child for a short few years so that the basics are understood before abandoning the child to the wilderness till they either mastered they gifts or perished from the world.

He was distracted enough to not notice a man turning to him and subsequently running into him, drawing Wyatt’s attention to find no one in front of him until his eyes cast downwards to find a robed man on the floor. “I’m so sorry friend, I was so caught up with everything I didn’t even notice your presence.” He apologized as he extended a hand to the other, bending slightly to bracing himself for the weight of the other as he would draw him back into a standing position.

He wore robes spun in a silk he’d cultivated in his forest, the garment clinging loosely to his muscular frame while also exposing a great deal of his sun kissed skin; having spent much of his time working and worshiping in the light of day. Pulling his traveling bag more firmly up on his shoulder, Wyatt strode into the market square of Warfall Castle; his ironwood staff personally carved and imbued with great magic leading his every step.