The Bracken Woods She

Mulherin departed on a fond, optimistic note, though Masquerade couldn’t even manage a smile for him. Her eyes tracked her brother’s movements through the trees until he disappeared from view completely and she felt somehow more disconsolate for the conversation.

She needed time, yes, and solitude too. She also needed food and sleep. Masque forced herself onto her feet to continue hunting, stifling a whine at her achy, shaky legs. Making a kill would give her furious emotions an outlet. And certainly she would feel less wretched with a little food in her belly.