Arrow Lake setting fire to our insides for fun

she wakes alone, and for a confusing moment believes herself secure within her den inside the Nightwalker's borders. but the fir she curls up beneath is foreign enough to make clear fairly quickly that she is far from the haunted wood. she does not know what has woken her, only that it is late morning, the mountainside shrouded in fog.

she moves to her feet and presses through the heavy snow-laden boughs, realizing too slowly she ought to move silently. immediately, her hackles flare; someone is close. they stand at the lake's edge, heavyset and cast in greys. she does not break eye contact, but the stranger is already turning, moving over the lake at a clip. she would dismiss it were it not for the prickle of unease across her shoulders, an innate wariness. so she watches them go until the stranger is lost to the horizon; even after, Hela remains fixed, not even the nearby scream of an eagle attracting her attention.