Shadewood ivy is taking over your sideboard

She couldn’t be sure what prompted the snort, nor the subsequent withdrawal. Masquerade’s jaw clenched as she resisted the urge to shadow the stranger’s movements. She was moving downriver, still on the unclaimed side of the bank. She didn’t want to stop her.

The words were something of a relief, though they did nothing to ease the tension coiling in every fiber of her body. Although she stood her ground, her eyes tracked the giantess carefully. Masque caught the simple question drifting back to her on the dark winter air.

When those striking eyes caught hers, she held her gaze for a beat before letting hers slide eastward. Masque nodded her head in that direction, toward the barely discernible silhouette of the mountains that formed a wall in the distant sky.

East, she confirmed, then pivoted slightly to stand parallel with the river and raised a damp paw to point, south.

She said nothing further, waiting pensively for the woman to take her leave. Some part of her wondered what Avicus or Redd—ah, she suddenly remembered the nightmare!—would do in this situation. Surely they would give chase. But she silently reminded herself that she was different: an aspiring leader of her own making, not a Wealda. She would listen to both her instincts and her good sense.