Shadewood o’ death

After Ashlar’s unceremonious burial, Masquerade couldn’t leave the slough quickly enough. She thought to return to the seashore to bathe herself, though her beeline northwest brought her to a stream. It sufficed. She spent an entire hour scrubbing her furs in the icy rapids before leaping clear on the far bank. With @Riley in tow, she ducked into the nearby stretch of trees to rest.

She woke the following morning, surprised she hadn’t had any nightmares about either Avicus or her ill-fated lover. Masquerade gently peeled away from her sleeping mate and spent a few minutes stretching. They weren’t far from the rill, so she padded back toward it to take care of her dry mouth.

In the silence that fell after she’d taken her drink, Masquerade could hear the distant crash of the surf. Closer at hand, of course, was the trickle of the freshwater stream. There was a chorus of birdsong somewhere behind her, further west. She turned her face in this direction, tipping her ruddy snout into the air to sift through the scents.

This is set on the 15th and open to anyone! :)