She made her way on foot. The sky was the color of a bruise at her back, but she faced toward the glimmering golds that streamed off the chrysanthemum still blooming somewhere to the west, though she could not entirely say where. The trees and the hills had buries it already, and only the memory streaked across the clouds was left in its stead, soon to turn the colors of blood and rust.

The perfect hour for a duel, she thought grimly.

And she reminded herself, slowly, that she had yet to encounter the one she'd heard rumors of on the outskirts of Rocket territory.

There was no question the one the townsfolk had spoken of hurriedly, eyeing her sword set on the table in front of them. They were rumors, yes, to be taken with a grain of salt, especially when squeezed out of them at the threat of violence, but... she knew as they had spoken of her that they were, if nothing else, not liars.

Hana had seen the woman as well. Not here, but in her snow-white den. She had been the one to quell the storm, the calm in the midst of calamity, the one who had managed to squeeze peace from Declan Walsh himself.

And now she was here, somewhere, probing their borders and stirring the lesser of their ranks to go out and search for her. She wondered if she sought peace here as well, another ceasefire.

"You want peace? Come and take it."

She mutters under her breath, hand to her blade as she surveys the forest around her.