Nova Peak End Game

They settled again and thought of dozing, their eyes drifting shut against the glare of the impossibly blue sky. As they began to drift off, a scent threaded into their nose and Masque sat up in a single fluid movement. In another second, they found their feet and craned over the ledge, peering straight downward at the foot of Dragon’s Back Ridge Nova Peak.

The same instant their eyes focused on a dark shape below—the stranger reminded them of the absent Haelend—they realized they recognized the scent. It was one of the two from the maple forest a few days prior. Masque’s long tail gave a catlike twitch as they squinted at the figure, wondering what he was still doing, lurking around this area. He shouldn’t be trifling with the rise’s hunting grounds.

But it wasn’t exactly in Masquerade’s nature to confront a stranger, particularly a male who looked to be in his prime. And it was too late to avoid him now. Despite having the literal upper hand, the yearling felt trapped. Their body tensed, skin hot and prickling in the late summer heat.