Rayadell’s attention snapped to the elk as he approached, her grip on the staff shifting as she straightened and took an instinctive step away from the great, antlered beast.
	When Calanon answered, her head turned back to him before her eyes followed. Her chin rose slightly as he got to his feet, before she offered him a small, quick nod. She took another step back when he knelt, then jumped onto a tree branch hanging above them. She cocked an eyebrow, wondering for only a moment whether he was showing off, or simply had had the urge to jump.
	“I’ve left a bit of wood behind.” She nodded toward the direction she had hunted for firewood as Brogach trotted to the other side of the fire. “I’ll return shortly.” 
	She turned and headed back into the forest, pausing to cast Calanon a last, quick glance before weaving between the trees.
	Not wanting to risk remaining in Calanon’s line of sight in case she had [i]not[/i] alerted him to her race, Rayadell went a bit deeper into the woods than she thought necessary, leaving her pile of wood well behind her. Once in the privacy of the shedding trees, some pines mixed in and adding shades of moon-drenched green, she cast a wary glance around her, leaned her staff on a tree, then unhooked her cloak. Though sure the tree spirit had followed her, she removed the garment.
	She suppressed a relieved groan as she stretched her wings out behind her, the appendages thankful for the chance to stretch and scaly tail curling and straightening in contentment. She quickly unhooked her narrow pack, then reluctantly wrapped her wings around herself so they would create less of a bulge at her back, yet still remain hidden beneath the cloak.
	She sighed sadly as she readjusted the cloak around her shoulders, missing the days when such precautions were unnecessary. But those days were long dead, buried beside the people she once loved.
	She shook her head with a snort, then went to retrieve the wood, her steps quickened by frustration at herself for letting the thought seep into her mind. With her pack draped over her elbow, staff tucked under an arm, and the wood in her arms, she returned to their campsite.
	As she passed, she cast another quick glance to the trees, looking for Calanon, dumped her armful of wood in the pile she had already brought, and knelt on the ground beside the fire. Laying her staff beside her, she dropped her pack on the ground to use as a pillow and laid down on her side, carefully keeping the cloak drawn around her like a blanket.
	Rayadell closed her eyes, and listened, her sensitive hearing picking up on even the gentlest of rustles. Though the chilly woods may have looked nigh deserted to the untrained eye, the night was very much active. The braver crickets that dared venture into these colder parts chirped softly, their songs odes to summery nights. Night birds rustled through the trees and gave their haunting calls, while a few owls hooted nearby, posing their repetitive questions to each other in a loop. A wolf howled in the distance, another answering its call.
	Ever so slowly, she dared let herself drift into a light sleep, any noise louder than the usual music of the night stirring her back into awareness.