Feet pounded against the leaf covered ground as a large, thin hound leap over a fallen tree. The Wylde Hunt had been called together, it was not riding. Not yet. Bounding past a group of sheltering wisps, the Cwn Annwn paused. A group of mixed Fae were near the border, something his Lord would not allow should the Hunt ride. Giomanch changed course, loping towards the scent. Why the Fall King was calling the Hunt, Giomanch was unsure. He had theories, of course. The peace between rulers was a test, all things were tests to the Fall King. Was the Hunt for whether they passed or failed, he could not say. More than that it was not his place to say. The Fall King ruled well and wisely. --------------------------- [@smarty0114] ------------------------------------------- The path between Summer and Fall was a ancient Gate, claimed and kept by Fall. It also had a good buyer of gold, and selection of grocers when you took in the human element on the other side. Both something Falk had taken into account when Aisling first came to him with her trifle problem and reluctance to eat the fae food. Hefting the heavy bags in her arms, Aisling walking along the thin path. Hearing the slight movement of a group coming through the forest. A voice swearing and calling out for them to move fast. Sliding off the path she darted behind a thick tree. Fae were not to be trusted, not even of her own Court. Especially not the Court of others. Stifling her breathing she listened carefully as she watched a group of Fae move swiftly along the path, a Spring-born bound and in tow. Though she could sympathize with his plight, she felt no pity for Fae. The Fair Folk deserved the horrors they visited upon each other. [color=007236][i]"Everyone, pick up speed! Falk has begun his Hunt, and if he catches us near the Fall Court, or anywhere in fact, these weapons will be useless!"[/i][/color] Came the call. Her Lord was beginning to gather his Hunt? She would have to hurry, lest he took her absence unwell. Pulling the cowl of her cloak over the vibrant red hair blessed by her Irish blood. However the movement jeopardized her grip on the bag, avoiding dropping the tin cans caused them to clank seemingly loudly in the tense silence. Hr breathe caught in her through as she pressed against the tree, Fae hearing was sharp. But perhaps they were too much in a hurry to look-? To care-? Hopefully so.