Moonspear meet at the crossroad of the divine

Several more minutes in and he thought he had spotted her—a shadow flickered to at the corner of his vision, somewhere higher up along the slope. There and gone in an instant; it could have been nothing, nothing at all. It could have been her, or it could have been her sister and it hardly mattered which one. Lyra would stalk after him through the eaves well here and there and Alya... well, he couldn't quite remember the last time he had crossed paths with Alya.

Either way, it hardly gave him pause as he continued upward.

Yet after a bit, it was there again; the glimmering wraith peering out through a mass of tangled vines and needled boughs. If not for the frost that clung unevenly in that tangle he may not have even caught sight of her, but this time he knew for certain. The first sighting may have just been a play on shadows, but ilk could not deny ilk so easily.

His lips tugged gently in a smirk as he continued on, playing fool to any sort of obvious placing she may have been taking so that he would spy her in fading light. Nonchalance was a very good ruse he could keep up, and the smirk faded away as he navigated a rather rocky stretch where one trailhead so rudely collided with another. A worn path it was, one that snaked through the evergreens reaching skyward, only to seemingly disappear beneath their arms like a natural archway. Or better yet, more suitable for the doings of Moonspear as of late—a gaping maw.

It was there he lingered, sure that Hydra would come.