Noctisardor Bypass sinister mist

uktark does not bristle when she passes him. he turns instead, falling into step beside her as if this had always been the direction.
my claim, he answers simply.
he gestures with his muzzle as they move. the stone walls first, sheer and narrow, the way sound dies between them. the lake after, frozen skin hiding depth. then the treeline, sparse but positioned where sightlines break and ambush favors the patient.
wind breaks here, he adds. enemies funnel there. nothing large moves without being seen.
when blackfell emerges, uktark stops. he turns, letting the two of them share a look before he speaks.
ivana, he says, naming her without flourish. this is blackfell, warden of the bypass.
a pause. something like approval flickers in his eyes.
she's stubborn, he adds, almost dry.
his gaze shifts briefly to blackfell, then back to her. you might like her.