The scream yanked Faolain’s attention from the calm observation of the sea from a perch high up in the cliffs of the Ridge. Irritated, she turned to look down within her own territory instead of outside of it.

Below her, an unfamiliar mare, painted and leading a red colt, stalked over Paradise’s border and boldly entered Faolain’s domain. The black mare’s ears turned back with annoyance. She could only assume this was Monster, Rougaru’s favorite toy, but she couldn’t at the time think of who the colt might be. Had Rougaru sent them here to bother her? Or had they come of their own accord, offended by the manner in which their Wolf King’s alliance with his mountain neighbors had been broken? She couldn’t really blame them either way, but Faolain still felt an underlying anger at the aggression of that scream, if not at their presence here at all.

Bristling, the scarred black mare slipped quietly down from her position in the cliffs and made her way gracefully through the trees below. Some parts of the Ridge were clothed in thick jungle like that of Paradise, but much of it was sparser, particularly that on the sides of the mountain. Faolain made her way through the tough, twisted trees, until the woods deepened again as she neared the border with Paradise, and she was met with Monster’s scent. The painted grullo came into view before her, and Faolain slipped through the vegetation like a stalking jungle cat until she stood face-to-face with this woman whom she had never met.

“Monster,” she hissed, her voice a wind through dead leaves. Her ears were twisted calmly back, not quite buried in her dark mane, but Faolain was fairly confident she’d not leave this encounter without lacing them at some point. Her scarred body stood with military posture as she held Monster’s mismatched gaze, ignoring the red colt at her side. “What can I do for you?” she asked, her voice having gained no more warmth since her initial address of Rougaru’s prized toy.