He refused to turn around. The street sign was right behind him, along with a small map of this part of the city, yet he stubbornly refused to turn around and check, for it would mean he admitted that he was completely, utterly, absolutely, totally lost (and he honestly had no idea where he was, he just refused to admit it).
His dagger was still in the form of the spear, sitting snugly on his back, and a few times he was seriously tempted to simply take it and slash something to pieces. He held himself back though, knowing that here and now, that would help him little to none in finding his way around. It used to be that easy, though, once upon a time, when the spear was everything you needed to find your way through the woods. He scoffed, frowning, and biting his lip to stop himself from outright growling. He found himself on yet another square, and turning around, he had to admit: he was out of the woods, and completely, utterly, absolutely, totally, lost.
His dagger was still in the form of the spear, sitting snugly on his back, and a few times he was seriously tempted to simply take it and slash something to pieces. He held himself back though, knowing that here and now, that would help him little to none in finding his way around. It used to be that easy, though, once upon a time, when the spear was everything you needed to find your way through the woods. He scoffed, frowning, and biting his lip to stop himself from outright growling. He found himself on yet another square, and turning around, he had to admit: he was out of the woods, and completely, utterly, absolutely, totally, lost.