The Tangle Hands to your hymnals, hell's at the door

If anyone was going to be the first to test the woman's words, it was going to be her.  She'd made the mistake of leading them on this cursed move and she'd be damned if she was going to let any of the rest of Rusalka suffer the consequences.

So she took to the tangle and sought out their borders.  It seemed that they claimed the massive mountain to the north, a fact that only cemented the comparison to Drageda in her mind.  A pack on high, but threatened by all below them.  Fucking cowards.

Hatred coiled thick and acidic in her throat and gut, threatening to choke her.  As much as she refused to admit it, however, it wasn't only caution that kept her from pulling something stupid.  Last time she'd encountered this situation, Drageda had taken and held her.  Fear kept her from inciting but it couldn't keep her from testing the waters.

Slowly, Rosalyn ranged the stones.  She didn't hunt, merely moved through them, hoping to meet these wolves on neutral ground and see what came of it.

WC: 181