Silverlight Terrace You know me better than I do

The moon was bright tonight, lighting up the land like an offer of mercy. Leonore was silent as she strolled through green grass, barely making a sound as she stepped. It was as though she was afraid of waking a lingering beast.

She had never visited the terrace, never walked so far, but something felt so painfully familiar. It was an ache in her chest, the same felt when reflecting on memories with siblings or Swiftcurrent Creek friends. Once the ache had been pleasant, something she welcomed with open arms, what had changed?

Leonore couldn't know if she would ever stop missing her first home, but the truth was that it was gone now. Nothing was waiting for her. She had mourned it for so long, but it was only in recent weeks that it was so painful.

She hated the cold season, how early the sun would set, how hopeless it made her feel.

She was a pretty pale thing, all moonlit silver casting long shadows in the dark. It'd been too long since he'd seen another of his own kind. The wolf halted, head lifting, ears tall as he studied the figure from afar.

Then he ducked his head and began to follow her. His steps were silent, vivid blue eyes gleaming and fixed on his quarry.

Hair raised on the back of her neck.

Someone was watching.

Leonore whipped her head to the right, staring at the space behind her with eyes clearly searching. Paws took careful steps forward, prepared to run.

Who's there?

His steps drifted to a slow stop, and he regarded her for a moment in silence. No one important, he called back, then started forward again. More slowly this time, testing the air between them.

She was alone, as far as he could tell. Alone and not much of a threat. The faint bristling of the fur along his shoulders calmed as he drew nearer, pale fur lying flat now.

A stranger reveals himself to her. Twice her size, lanky, pale coated and dark faced. There's something about his air that she doesn't like. Then don't skulk around me like a pair of cougars. She half-snarls the words, turning so her back isn't facing him.

Her eyes flick to the southern mountain for a short moment, the thought that she should run back there crossing her mind. What do you want? Her tone is still accusing, still suspicious.

Cougars don't hunt in pairs, he corrected almost to himself, chuckling softly. His steps never faltered. They're not like us. Cougars travel alone. Kill alone. Must be terrible, don't you think?

I bet they're terrible at small talk. He smirked with those final words, halting when the distance between them had dwindled to something more conversational. The vivid blue of his eyes was cold, unreadable, and fixed unwaveringly on her face. For a moment he thought about trying to reassure her — but no, he didn't think that would do any good. She would see what she wanted to see. They always did.

She didn't like this one, not at all. He was creeping her out.

Leonore lunged forward when he moved towards her, not biting, but rather snapping her teeth. Afterwards she didn't around, running eastwards.

Maybe his intentions were perfectly innocent, but she wasn't going to stick around to find out.