Ivy saw them pour out from the forest, like specters from the grave. Their scent was downwind from her and the ocean pushed hers toward them, scenting the air with her unique aroma. She was surrounded with the cliff at her back and a hundred feet, at the very least, to the ground. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she realized that she was out numbered. Perhaps she might have stood a fighting chance if it had been two wolves or maybe even three but not this many. She’d been devoured before she even fell the first one.<br/><br/>Their bared teeth flashed dangerously in the pale lunar rays. A flash of movement followed by a howl snapped her attention to the canopy of trees and she looked for the source of the disturbance. In the deep darkness of the forest she saw the warm glow of illuminated eyes and she met them with cool determination in her own. Her suspicions were confirmed, he was a werewolf, she was sure but now her mind buzzed with even more questions. Why was he here? What pack was he from? Would he harm the citizens of the city or would they just pass through? Now, with that thought, she hoped the people would stay in their homes, lock and bar the windows and doors, and let the vampires take care of any problems. Ivy doubted anyone in the manor was stirring just yet. They would wait, no doubt, to assess the threat and then move if they needed to. Her life was of no consequence to them – if she died she would only be missed for a brief time. Ivy inhaled deeply and swallowed the sour taste in her mouth. Unnatural mist swirled around her ankle and dimly lit the forest floor and then the pack of wolves parted for her. One jabbed his nose in the direction of the woods and she walked forward, stiletto in hand, and into the stand of trees.<br/><br/>Her eyes never left the gaze of the man who loomed in the slender boughs of an aspen. Her posture was straight, dignified but not arrogant, never arrogant. She was a woman who faced a potential death and she would not die, she decided, a coward. Ivy turned her palms upward, though her right still clutched the silver dagger, and she presented herself in a manner that depicted surrender though she kept herself on edge. She would not be taken unawares.<br/>“Ser,” she started and she found her voice seemed unsettling loud amid the eerie silence of the forest. “Good evening, to you and your pack, I am Ivy,” she greeted him, a flash of a smile graced her lips in a sign of politeness. “I have no ill intent but, if I might so boldly ask, what brings you here to this unorthodox part of the plane?” she asked and watched him. Her body was rigid as she watched him for any sign he might attack her. His vantage point in the tree was her handicap and she continued to have to tilt her head back to look at him. She wondered what his next move would be and she stood, uneasily, under his gaze.<br/>