Blackfeather Woods Searchers after horror haunt strange, far places

Euron had always enjoyed the simple act of following and listening, gathering what information he could from careless mouths in the shadows. His brother had excelled at it so greatly he'd made a life of it, sneaking and spying and selling the information for his benefit. Ramsay, on the other hand, relished fear. Not the kind of fear Blackfeather Wood's Dark Masters had bragged of in the past—the fear for one's life, the fear of pain—but rather, the fear of the unknown. He wasn't inherently a violent beast and took no pleasure in seeing terror on another's face because of violence.

But when they couldn't see the thing they were afraid of? Or when they didn't know what the outcome would be? That was horror in its purest form, and Ramsay derived a great deal of satisfaction from it. So much that he often didn't discriminate between friend, stranger or foe when pursuing it. In this case it happened to be Titmouse, who thus far hadn't noticed him. So he did what he did best: he deviated from his course, bringing his paw down intentionally on an errant twig into the sharp snrk of its breaking made the white wolf lift his head.

Ramsay smiled then, sinking low in the shadows and watching Maegi's companion with keen indigo eyes. It was cruel to taunt a creature thusly, but it was all in the name of fun... to Ramsay, anyway. For Mou, this was sort of like training. The forest was dark and spooky and had the capacity to overwhelm its inhabitants with its gloom. Not only that, but they were close to the mountains, inviting the occasional wildcat or two down into the trees. They needed to know the sound of being stalked. His squat body was ideal for this sort of thing; it wasn't as hard to hide as a full wolf's. He inched ever so slightly forward, rustling a bush in the process, and then fell completely still, waiting for Titmouse to locate him if he could.