Feyre stomps her foot on the ground letting out a growl of frustration, the motion loosening her already messy, pastel pink bun even more. She throws the useless, good for nothing map to the floor and kicks some leaves at it, muddying the toe of her leather riding boot. Running a hand down her face and dropping to the floor with a huff, Feyre wonders why she bothered to wander into the stupid forest anyways.

Maybe it's because she wanted to explore something new. Maybe it's because she felt more at peace surrounded by trees rather than buildings. But Feyre knew that in reality, she just wanted to escape the dull city routine. 

She leans her head back against the tree and closes her eyes. Maybe if I take a small nap, I'll have more energy to travel later, she thinks to herself, before dozing off, completely oblivious to the figure walking up behind her.

Pocket had been sleeping, sadly "had" was past tense. There was someone in the forest, he could tell. 
He got up, yawned and began the run his daily activities, he practiced archery first. Pocket was not much good at archery, every time he loosed an arrow it flew with a screech into the woods. He sighed and slung his bow over his back, running off into the woods where it had flown. However, when he got to the tree he had managed to lodge his arrow in he found a girl napping on the floor at the base of the tree. Oh no, there are some terrible things that happen if you sleep on the forest floor, this is why Pocket always made sure to sleep up high, in a tree far away from any of the creatures that get into your head while you slumber.
Pocket knew he had to wake her up, she couldn't just stay here. Plus he could have sworn he had seen her in Adeluna yesterday when he traveled across the blood mountains.
He poked her softly and said 
"Hey Girl, Hey get up before a Centrod gets into your head!"

"Hey Girl, Hey get up before a Centrod gets into your head!"

Feyre woke with a start as the voice pierced through her fitful sleep. She shot up, rather ungracefully, and yawned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"A what?" She asked what appeared to be a young boy, maybe 16 at the most.

She scowled in confusion, wondering why a young boy is traveling through the woods alone. 

The girl woke up. not very gracefully granted,

"A what?" She asked.

"A Centrod, you would know them if you've ever slept on the ground, they climb into your brain through your ears and give you weird thoughts." Pocket said in a know-how manner.

He lends his hand for the girl.

Feyre swats his hand away and stands up on her own.

"Maybe I already have weird thoughts" She teases. "How do you know I'm not a centrod?"

Feyre bends over and picks up her satchel, checking to make sure everything was still in place before throwing it over her shoulder. Her hands traveled down to her hips and thigh to make sure all her daggers were still there. 

"Say, what are you doing out here on your own anyways?" She asks the boy.

Pocket glances at the girl, she was pretty… but rude.
"I'm not lost if that's what you mean, I live out here. I'm completely capable to fend for myself" he gestures to his body, which is freshly soaked in grizzly blood.
"And if you're having weird thoughts about a teenager soaked in blood, then you need help."

He starts scrambling through his pouch and finds a cloth, Pocket starts to clean his sword, an ugly thing, with it while continuing:
"Anyway, It's nice to meet you, never mind the setting. I'm Pocket" 
He sheathes his still crimson sword and reaches out his hand.
  

Feyre lets out a small laugh at the boys assumption, and shakes his hand once, with a firm grip. 

"Who said the weird thoughts were about you Pocket" she says, testing out his name. "And as much as I would love to stay here and figure out why you're covered in blood, -grizzly right?- I best be going."
 
Feyre brushes her hands off on the skirt of her riding gown, and pulls her bow and quiver over her shoulder, ready to continue her journey.

How can she not have been to Virens yet? Pocket though to himself… if she really was lost then there is no way for her to retrace her steps… she'll never get out alive.
"You do realize, that once you're lost in Virens forest… not much hope trying to get out."
He said with a smirk,
"But… If you want to get out I can help you. Sure, it might take a bit but we'll manage"

He climbed up his tree, grabbed his pack and hammock, Jumping down he said,
"Well, if we stay here" licking the fresh claw wound on the arm "another grizzly might come to finish the job."

Feyre eyes him warily, as he licks his wounds. Her lip curls in disgust as the smell of blood hit her nose. Despite her past as an assassin, she's always hated the iron tang of blood, which made her job very hard to do. 

"I'm sure I'll get out of here if I keep going north" Feyre says, pointing into the distance with the dagger she withdrew from her boot. "And I hardly doubt any grizzly would stand a chance against us."

She smiles at the thought of a good fight. The Fae genes in her are always craving the adrenaline rush you get from killing but Feyre has learned to collect and control her aggressive nature and power.

"Yes, well heading north does sound good in theory, except it is very hard to go out that way… alive, it gets dangerous up there," He said, then he smiled "All the more reason, let's get you out of here, and have some fun too"