Blackfeather Woods a haunt of roulette dares

With Damien's attempt to infiltrate the woods thoroughly thwarted, Ramsay spent his time searching for lingering traces of their coming. He dwelled long and often on how his uncle had penetrated so deeply past their defenses, but each time he reminded himself that it didn't make a difference in the end. Blackfeather Woods' guardians had prevailed. All that was left to do was remove the stains made by the invaders, and lucky for the mercenary, they hadn't accomplished much in way of marking prior to leaving.

The scents were concentrated most around the Melonii's entrance to the web—Ramsay made a mental note that that name was no longer fitting. Melonii though he and his sister may be, they lacked the arrogance. He spent some time there, tracing the tracks of all the wolves who had saw fit to follow Damien into danger and replacing their scents with his own. By the time he finished, it was impossible to tell that anyone but Ramsay had been there.

He wound through the tunnels next, coming across Titmouse somewhat by accident when he popped out of one entryway or another. He didn't know about Maegi's conditions for the man, so he wasn't alarmed to see him out in the sun. Instead he watched quietly as Titmouse finished his business, then asked, equally quietly, they came by here too, huh? How had they gotten so far without being intercepted? He supposed none of them could be faulted for it. No wolf had eyes everywhere. But it troubled him and it showed.