Porcupine Ridge When the chips are down

<3

midnight, and the sky goddesses sent out their searching hands to guide muskrat in confident stride through the fallen night. moonlight broke across the hard-muscled form of hex's warrior as she trotted noiselessly across leaf-litter and carpets of fallen green needles.

voice in appealing tones rose now, wolven and not. compelled, muskrat held still in the creamy yellow light of stars who looked down upon she and showed a tiny path where she might eventually meet

"tousaint." from a shelf of rock she dropped down near the montagne petal of a creature. but beauty was its own knife; sliver of moonglimmer showed their eyes to one another.

razored grin; muskrat took in the lavender and its bindings, fashioned from foliage she did not recognize. but now her stare flicked to his face, searching. "why you call to me?" came the purling voice, more sibilant in these times since she had come to live in a serpent's dark.