Blackfeather Woods through your scalp

Hunting thread #2 (target: badger, failed with no injuries)

Mambo stalked through the undergrowth, which arrayed itself in damp masses of mossy greens so dark they seemed brown at times or else pitched as oil like the blood of Night-children -- like the same black blood that flowed in the witchling's own veins. Her heavy, sooty paws fell with silent tact, little more than graceful habit by now, as if Mati too belonged to the clan of her blood that had once ruled these trees and claimed the dark-winged soldiers for their friends and familiars. As if she too laid claim to the birthright of Meldresi's descendants. Occasionally the Bayou queen lowered a blackberry nose, dark lips peeling back to reveal pearlescent fangs and a tongue as dark as the rest of her -- as dark as her very soul -- to scent the ground for trails left by vermin.

After a time she came across the musk of a badger, ears lifting as Aerenys darted after the heavy, woody smell on swift steps. Quickening to a trot, she cut through the forest as the dark point of a dragonglass-tipped spear -- an obsidian dagger flying towards its target.