(no subject)

[mistressmaryquitecontrary]

It's been a fairly pleasant evening in the bar with her book, and Mary is trotting back to the greenhouse in the dark, the remnants of a milkshake moustache on her upper lip and her complete Shakespeare tucked under her arm.

She's hurrying, a little - it's cold - but only a little; the stars are reflecting off the lake, and it really is all awfully pretty.

Comments

[wolflord_andain]

There are wolf tracks in the snow, out by the forest.

It really is a pity Mary cannot see them, not from where she stands.

Nor can she see where they turn to bootprints, abrupt and sudden and startling.

But she might catch sight of Galadan, moonlight glinting off the silver of dagger and sword at his hip as he stands almost directly between the girl and her destination.