A bustle about the Barony as Silverwolf prepares for Samhain. Horses are saddled, tack is checked, and all who care to prepare to ride. The Dragon Lord is demonically handsome in silver and black armor, and the Cruel Knight a svelte and deadly shadow at his side. The Warriors ride tall steeds which will march along the sides of the trail, axes honed and hammershafts oiled - no prey will slip to the sides. The Monster follows behind, teeth gnashing, and no less deadly but for the wires that fill her mouth - and all the more frightening for how they gleam to accentuate her teeth - on this night, her jaw stretches and she knows she can, indeed, bite. Hounds with eyes that glow and breath that steams hot in the air swarm around her as the pack readies to follow in the rear.
Back at the manor house, the Lovers sequester - perhaps in another place and time he would run on fleet hooves with the Hunt, but instead he has made his choice, and accompanies his gentle-eyed lady to hide safely within.
The Matron - (Crone sounds so willowy!) will remain within, spending this time when the veil grows thin to Remember the years and lives gone past, and drink to them, and the next incarnation, looming closer with every Winter.
It is for the newcomers to decide - the Spearmaiden and the Rider, on how they spend their night. But the sun is setting, and a choice must soon be made.