Waking from a night of running

A white tiger ear fluttered, as Kralla awoke to a quiet conversation on the chill autumn morning air. The smell of a damp-wood fire permeated the camp as she propped herself up on one arm.

Across from her, the welcome sight of Master Tellerick nursing a tin mug of steaming tea greeted her.

"A good morning Master Tellerick." She growled, pushing back the blanket.

"And to you Mistress Whitesnow..." Tellerick seemed faintly embarrassed. "Thank you for saving my life."

"Thank your student Master Tellerick, not me." She took a mug of tea from Skaran. "We need to talk undead..."