Blood. A scent all too familiar, the metallic tang cutting through the crisp winter air as the moon gazed down upon the snow-laden fields. Ananias followed it blindly, curiosity laced with caution. It did not take long to find the corpse, torn open and left to the elements.

An offering?

She could think of no other reason for it to sit abandoned so deliberately. Bowing her head slightly, a gesture of respect meant to appease whatever god had been worshipped there, she began to move on, careful to keep her distance. Each step crunched softly beneath her paws, betraying her presence, but she did not care. The world felt quiet. Empty.

What was there to fear?

Someone making sacrifices? She had little doubt in her ability to handle herself should the need arise.

Those thoughts were interrupted by movement, by the sight of a dark figure submerged within one of the many ponds scattered throughout the area. Her ears perked, fur bristling instinctively, yet she remained calm. Another might have halted then, turned tail and fled.

Not her.

She moved forward until she stood at the pond’s edge, eyes tracing the form of the bathing woman as blood shimmered faintly through the cold water.

Hail.

The word was simple. Quiet. Intentional.