Red and the wolf

John made his way through the thin folliage of the outer forrest, following the spiralling trail deeper into the forrest. As per the clan's tradition when a memeber turns 19 they must enter the forrest of their free will amd stay for thirty days or 'till the will of magic moved them'. Occasionally the participant swore they were moved by the will of magic but it sounded strongly like they moved by a lack of toilet paper. John's bare feet stung as he stepped over the fallen pine needles and underbrush of nettles. The small bushes scratched at his legs where they managed to get around his cloak. As per tradition he must wear a red cloak. The decription of 'red cloak' was a bit vauge so it was generally up to the discretion of the participant. John chose poorly as it turned out. It was a very warm summer so he had picked a light cloak of this material and, while practical for the weater, he failed to take into account that it would need to protect him from getting too scratched. The ritual was very specific that the participant was to be naked under the cloak and carry in no supplies. The elders had told him that the main purpose of the ritual was to walk into nature with nothing an survive using only magic. It was initially performed naked but there were fatalities when it was done over winter. The colour red was used in some spells to amplify magic, particularly when fire was involved. But, the cloak was a double edged sword. It meant that John was easily visable to animals and spirits that roamed the woods. The woods were thick with residue from old spells and John could feel the crackle of lingering magic in the air. He rubbed his hands together to get his mana flowing and then reached out and grabbed some leaves on a nearby tree. He whispered to the leaves softly and used his magic to grow and shape the fibres. He shaped small pair of shorts, weaving magic and the plant into a stretchy fabric. Fabricating objects like that was a little taxing but he felt decidedly less exposed without the wind blowing on his ass. The shorts were a little tight but he'd weave a little more once he had found shelter and food. Before completing the pilgramage most witches had quite weak magic. The woods itself seemed to shape and grow the magic within them. John had some skill but he was no where near good enough to provide supplies for himself. His sister was a prodigy and had completed her time in the woods a year ago. It was unheard of as she was only 15 but she snuck into the woods in a stolen cloak. When she came out there was moss growing in her foot prints and flowers bloomed out of season in her wake. John cast a small scrying spell to help him find food. This would be the first challenge to survive. With a scryign spell he could seek out plants that may be edible but in a magic forrest like this it was a bit of a gamble. Some of the plants had become cruel and willfil. They would mislead a scrying spell themselves to poison the caster. Luckily, John's affinity was for scrying and seeing magic. He deliberately cultivated these spells because the survival spells that most participants would learn were a bit beyond him. Willing plants to grow fruit or conjuring supplies were far beyond his meager amount of mana. The scrying spell created a small orb of blue light at waist level. it cast an unearthly, shadowless glow on the surrounding trees. it was a moonless night so the light was welcome. The orb slowly drifted forward, swaying side to side slightly. it was cast to act as a sort of bloodhound for magical energy. it could tell some edible plants from corrupted. so if it found something it was a slight risk but John favoured his odds of that over starving to death. the light would stop and lash green if it found something edible. an orange flash meant something that looked edible but wasn't. If it flashed red it meant...well basically it meant run. The light bobbed around and he collected some mushrooms, an edible root and some herbs. The herbs could be made into a poultice if he was injured. He didn't run into any small animals to hunt for dinner but he thought he might have better luck in the morning. John wandered a bit looking for a place to set camp for the night. It was a little overcast so he settled on a shaded clearing that would offer some protection if it rained. there was a tree with a small hollow that he decided would make a good place to sleep. He gathered a few twigs and set at making a fire to cook with. After a couple of attempts he managed to cast a small fire spell. The spell itself was low mana but it would be far easier to just light a match. John lacked the talent for elemental magic. He was stubborn to a fault and elemental magic required that you allow yourself to be shifted by nature's flow. he skewered his foraged vegetables and roasted them. All in all not a terrible first night's dinner. He'd have more time tomorrow to find water and more substantial food source. The last thing he wanted was to be attacked while hungry and dehydrated. He smothered the fire till some small embers remained. He placed some herbs on the embers, that smelt faintly of lemon, to ward off some of the bugs. The tree hollow was a little cooler and the moss on the ground was comfortably spongy. He kept cast his scrying light again, set it above the camp fire and added a noise charm to it. If anything dangerous came near it would turn red and make enough noise to wake him up. He lay down amd drifted to sleep, engulfed by the deep red of his cloak.