Shadewood Even though we know it, everyone remains in play.

Riley bent over the creek, his shoulders hunched. A wave of something — not quite nausea, possibly a brief throttling of the stomach — had passed over him seconds before. His mouth singed with the taste of bitter adrenaline.

After a few seconds, the sensation faded. He chalked it up to the cached hare he’d eaten the day before. It’d been risky eating in the first place — the meat had long soured, but Riley was loathe to let any expenditure of effort go to waste.

He bent to drink, but stopped as the loud clap of a beaver’s tail struck the water. He wondered if @Masquerade was nearby, and if she was in the mood for hunting with this warmer weather.