The only peak of light shone from two candles nestled into the right side of a ravenwood desk, shadows casting themselves in abundance about the edges of the circular room and along the contour lines of the only presence nearby. She stood at a balcony, watching the setting sun with something kin to a solace about her unwavering and still form. The day had been uneventful, filled with the petty squabbles that made it oftentimes difficult for her to get away and simply rest within her own quixotic thoughts. Age had taught her to keep her tongue, even when she wanted to lash the simpering idiots back into whatever holes they had originally crawled out from. If I have to listen to one more damned political nonsense strung sentence, I swear to the Mistress, I'll lose whatever sanity this place has left for me. Her piercing eyes moved to the Master Ravenwood tree far below Night's Needle, their intense gaze catching the sight of the recently arrived denizens she would have to deal with sooner or later. Preferably the latter, she thought to herself grimly before she turned around and walked into the confines of her study. With the recent invasions of Serenwilde and now the compromised treaty between New Celest and Glomdoring, she was finding herself more at odds with her own thoughts. She shot a glance to the desk, parchment paper and ink gleaming beneath the candle light like children waiting to be taken to bed. Shayle was more than sure she would have to put aside her own mental thoughts and get to work eventually, but that time was yet to come. A heart-thuddening yawn came from beside the desk, as a large creature poked its sleepy head above the desk and gave her a glare, as if to say, "Are you still brooding?" A slight smile crept to her lips, unconditioned by the day's weariness. Nae need to worry, my dear. Not exactly brooding; simply patiently waiting. The dog-like creature, the barghest, simply snorted loudly before disappearing behind the desk to resume its evening nap. Just like a cat, I swear.

That brought her mind back to the beginning of what had caused her such irritation this evening. Work, work, and more work. Not to mention that the Shadowdancers were in dire need of more supplies, and the villages were hardly meeting the quotas demanded for the Glomdoring's protection. She shook her head, her mane of blackberry hair cascading about her small shoulders and sweeping over her irridescent faeling wings. I wouldn't dream of tackling either of those issues just as of yet. Mistress be merciful, I don't have the patience at the moment. A knock rang at her study doors, their massive forms carved from the same wood as her desk and everything else in the study. What in Nil is it now? She quickly moved herself behind her desk and took a deep breath. Without needing to reach out with her mind, the person behind the doors was already known. I didn't spend my entire life not knowing these people, she thought to herself before the door opened of its own accord, allowing Shamarah into the study.

"Am I interrupting anything, my Queen?" came Shamarah's voice, as she poked her head into the room. No, she wanted to say, but you damned well know that you're invading a moment of peace I rarely get. Instead, she offered an inviting smile and motioned to the one seat that sat before her desk with an elegant gesture. Without a second question, Shamarah moved to the seat, the study door closing behind her, and sat herself down.

"What is it that brings you to my study, Shamarah?" Shayle asked politely, seating herself after her geust had been seated. Her regal black gown folded just right about her, not a single thread nor fold out of place. She could almost envision herself from another's point of view, regal and quiet, powerful but not too unapproachable. Just right, or so she hoped. Shamarah watched her for a moment before she told her of the news she carried. "Serenwilde forces have been seen in Faethorn, my Queen. I was wondering if I should take this information to the Seneschal, but I knew you would have a word or two for me."

"Where were they seen?" she asked, her face masked by the shadows that were, thankfully, plentiful enough to hide the fleeting furrow of her brow at such news. What are those fanatics trying now? "By the Lady and the Lord, my Queen." Well, that wasn't exactly news, but whatever the Serenwilders were doing, it meant bad news for the Shadowdancers and the forest in the end. The Crow followers could handle themselves, afterall, she quickly thought as she looked over to her barghest, who was now wide awake and watching Shamarah with an eerie intellect that was unfathomable, even to her. Shayle went over the last few times the Serenwilders had been seen in Faethorn within the past few days, finding their appearances far too uncomfortably in line with something she was not sure of. A cough brought her out of her thoughts and back into the study.

"Ah, yes. Aye, this will indeed be news. Thank you, Shamarah. I will be sure to alert the Seneschal immediately," she said with a genial smile, as she lowered her head and stared at the blank parchments before her. Taking this as a dismissal, Shamarah rose and left, leaving behind no traces of her presence. Damn it all. This is the last thing I need right now. She cursed herself for not having seen the signs before. If those twaddling children think they will undo everything the Glomdoring Forest has been working on thus far, they are extremely mistakened. She could feel a headache beginning to thrum within her temples, with the promises of not going away anytime soon. A gruff snort came from beside her desk, the barghest watching her with those same keen, irisless and whiteless eyes. "Yes, I know. This will have to be dealt with soon, if not now. And not one word about this to anyone before I can get to the Seneschal. Understood?" she snapped impatiently in response, not even giving a glance to the beast who put its head back down without another word, or rather, sound.

"All right. Fine, I'll deal with it now," she said as she rose, whispering a quick word of command as the room filled with the fae she had called her own since she could remember. They swarmed about her, sullenly, and trailed behind her as she strode forward towards the door. Quickly, before she could reach the door, she simply vanished as she sent herself towards the Seneschal's presence, leaving behind the two flickering candles and a room that offered more headaches than it was worth.

In her absence, the barghest was left to slumber. A presence flitted about, however, dark and malign, though terribly powerful. A chuckle rang in the air, the barghest raising its head and staring into the darkness of the night outside. It was a new moon, lightless and fathomlessly dark. Throughout the forest, a bloody-drenched howl was heard coming from the Night's Needle. Back in the study, Viravain watched and contemplated, with a grinning barghest next to her, from a patio where darkness was surely gathering in quiet musings.