Emberwood The die is cast.

It seemed as if she was alone in her desires. Not only was Scipio nowhere to be found, but his scent too trailed away from her. The occasional familiarity that the wind exposed to her was drifting, non-corporeal, and as whimsical as Mercury's will. She thought, during a hesitant moment of reflection, that perhaps she was being led astray by the trickster.

Without an escort the road could be dangerous for a lady; she knew this, but chose to brave it anyway. A true Roman could not be afraid of the dark, or the unknown presented by the road ahead. With this in mind, Basilie chose to continue - but she barely moved beyond a few feet from her resting point before she noticed a more present scent, and the potential threat it posed.

Her head turned first, with golden eyes fierce in their scrutiny; and then her ears began to pivot. Whoever was out there among the grassland, they were well hidden. Or at the very least, they were not moving. I dislike being watched, stranger. She called unto the wind, and gave a brisk wag of her shortened tail, Show yourself or I will hunt for you.

Had she known the spy was snow white and therefore quite easy to find (when looking in the other direction, apparently...) perhaps she would've been less brazen about her shouting; however, Basilie was firmly rooted in ignorance.