Skill:

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She'd been out.

And in her jaws was a small, well-loved squirrel skeleton.

It wasn't that she was rooting around in Viscaria's den, it was just that she'd been looking for clues. Her disappearance and death were sudden but certainly appeared pre-meditated. And it was clear that Viscaria would have had to have left her den in order to have faced down the Red Monster alone. And Sreda had begun to wonder why the woman had left the safety of the pack lands, to begin with.

Viscaria had seemed above completely mindless wandering.

Perhaps it was an understandable, strange calling that had driven her into the night and danger's waiting grasp. Or perhaps ... perhaps she sought danger. Thrill (and for that Sreda held respect). But where was her husband, then? Her children? Her grandchildren? She realized this included her, but it hadn't been on her radar to stalk her grandmother very much — the woman seemed private. Besides, wasn't that what society deemed a husband's job?

Perhaps Silas  was in cahoots with the Red Monster. He disappeared pretty damningly quickly after Viscaria's original absence. The cogs of her mind worked overtime as the mystery continued to perplex her. And the witchy woman would puff air from her lips, taking short and precise strides as she made her way back toward her den.

But it would seem that, once more, she was to entertain guests.

Perhaps she needed to put up a sign.

Small and golden and oddly similar in build to their now-late-grandmother, Sreda noted the half-familiar figure. She recognized her only by sight, realizing she was the woman from the North that Alder had come home with. Seemed strange for her to wander so close to the serpent's den. Alone.

And she was certainly not a Blood Breather. She didn't have the same bold, otherworldly charm as Wardruna. Nor the ... apparent fortitude.

Sreda's steps were impossibly quiet as she approached, drowned out further by the heavy cry of the waterfall. Her scent matched the air of general decay that lingered near the cave, that strange smell mirroring that of a haunted house. The darkness cloaked her as she moved forward, trailing behind the sunbeam before approaching in Solvi's wake in an eerie, otherworldly and slithering silence.

Closer, closer, closer, until she was nearly beside her until she uttered a curt, emotionless Hello at full volume.

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Skill:

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With her abrupt greeting, the golden woman jumped and spun, fueled by adrenaline and sudden fear as her smaller frame whipped around to face the emotionless gaze that awaited her. Sreda watched the way that gold fur stood on end for a few moments, those bright green eyes flickering with subtle nuances of fear and post-traumatic stress.

Sreda waited for the other to compose themselves, silently reveling in her midnight fright. The gold wolf then apologized, for whatever reason that Sreda could not quite fathom. Had she slipped some sort of poison into Sreda’s mouth mid-conversation? Now that would be a fun party trick.

But she didn’t feel sick.

Pity.

Sreda’s ears flicked, amethyst eyes twinkling darkly.

“I did not know you were here.”

I noticed, Sreda returned, voice even and unyielding. She would then press herself past the stranger, crossing the threshold of her cavern so that she could deposit the squirrel skull in one of the many strange receptacles she’d created. Really, it was just a mess of arranged sticks, but don’t tell Sreda that. For in her head, there was pristine organization. There was science.

The woman would raise her head, turning her curt gaze back toward the stranger that lingered at her doorstep. Come in, she’d encourage, flicking her tufted ears. You came all this way, after all. And I don’t get to meet many strangers. She would turn herself to fully face the stranger, finally lowering her rump and gazing toward the other down the bridge of her pointed nose. Unblinking.

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