Shadewood you wake on the floor holding a knife, a bottle and a handful of black fur

Birdsong sounded across the canopy of the woods. Riley had been struck by its sudden emergence — realizing belatedly how quiet winter must be that he would notice something as simple and pedestrian as the chatter of horny birds.

He followed Masque’s trail past a slough, where it deposited towards a running river. Here he caught Masque in full view, sodden and bent around — no doubt assessing the ugly wounds that scored her back.

He reached for her wordlessly, worry in his gaze. Maybe you should have mated a healer. Riley jested lightly, concern darkening his features as he too noticed the scent of blood.