Flight

[Torture du Nox]

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Back-dated slightly to the 28th, a day before her attack and two days before she arrives at Inferni. (300+)

The soft thudding of a leather-bound messenger bag slapping gently against a strutting thigh was the only betrayal of the small Luperci at first, as she strode swiftly through the lithe forest at the base of the mountains. Her nature was stealth, so it wasn’t until she emerged into a twilit clearing that she finally allowed would-be eyes to settle on her svelte, black body. She crouched, fingers brushing the grass intuitively, and then she was off again, clutching the strap of her bag so that it didn’t flop around so freely. Though this wasn’t entirely necessary, considering the sound of rushing water soon began to drown out everything in the immediate area.

The foreigner paused at the mountain’s base, peering with keen eyes in the strengthening moonlight at the sparkling water that flowed and danced down the mountainside and into a wide pool, funneling slowly, languidly into the river flowing south. The raven ‘yote smiled, content, as she had recently fed and was presently enjoying her journey. This beauty. She did not know that in a day’s time, she would be nearly apprehended or killed, by a surprisingly skilled wolf, and be lucky to escape with mere scratches. She would continue eastward along the mountain’s base and simply find out on her own. It was fate.

But for now, she was content to rest by the waterfall. She stored her bag cleverly amongst some rocks and brush, and melded softly into the mossy, sloping landscape near the falls. How she was situated, she could lie on her back, with one arm behind her head, and on knee propped up, and still be able to see in front of her (and there would be no way to approach her any other way without clamoring), which is exactly what she did. She also laid her black-hilted dagger near her thigh, within her grasp. Her eyes were wide and searching for a while, but soon the sound of the water began to act as a lullaby, and her eyes closed unwillingly—terse body relaxing until her head fell sideways and her breathing eased softly into sleep.

“ The glint of light that caught the scythe,

Perhaps if I could pay a tithe… ”

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