.
It took only a few hours after arrival and the awakening of her interests to realize the do's and don'ts in this world, with one exclusively bound to magic:
Seek not the dark, least you consume yourself with it.
Walk not the rivers of blood, least you pay the price with your own
Let the dead be dead, least you break the cycle of life.
To say the trinity of taboo magic was interesting is only scratching the surface of her personal thoughts, yet warnings only served to ignite the flames of her interests even further, albeit this drive would be treaded with carefully, much like everything since her arrival to Terrasphere has been: with heavy, coordinated steps.
Shane pushed page after page over her blank tome, every single sheet but an empty canvas to the naked eye, the runes carved maleficiums in black magic, the door to every spell she has memorized this far and yet the pages kept going on and on. On itself, a catalyst to her craft, aswell as a compendium that went from little tricks to harmful effects that could backfire within the slightest error, be it through chanting or gestures alike.
The temporary seals left upon the trees worked as landmarks for her to traverse the way back and forth on known pathways, having taken a few days to explore the starting point for all newcomers and adding runes of differing symbols, should they cross and lead to different waypoints. She could laugh at the idea of being seen as a witch, but then, the devil wears suit and tie some say, and she would be no exception to the eyes of the public, even if her own could only see their worth upon the magical essence they carry, in quite a literal manner.
The idea that there were more like her, daring souls ready to research the unknown or brave the very powers others couldn't understand emboldened to search not only for any suitable for the description, but the latest tracks she's covered guided her to leftovers that emanated from the grass, the trees, the very forest itself, like an omen, albeit long forgotten and merely a mark by now.
She braved on, exchanging tome for her little personal diary, quill tainted by her own magic to write down intrinsic runic patterns different to that of a spell, sharing a glance between the paper and her path alike, tapping her foot twice every twelve seconds to let her aura grow and unravel any obstacles ahead of her, or warn her of them in the first place.
Wouldn't be the first time she crushed against a tree...