Moonspear the secret face within the tapestry

She took note of him moments later, hawk-eyed from the shallow pools. He read that gaze at length, searching for something other than neutrality. She did not seemed bothered by his presence as he wound in closer and at what seemed the curious tilt of his head, inquired if he would be joining her. That seemed promising.

"If you'll permit me," came his reply, a tentative step to the warm waters to follow. Though at some length from her, he was closer than he had been. Dirge could smell much more than the water and the blood; she smelled of the wilds, of damp timber and untold whispers.

He wondered of this, but did not inquire.