The Southern Village was most definitely not the place for anyone who was weak of heart to be.

The thieves, crooks and Mystics gathered here to turn it into a place of debauchery and treachery.

Mason never liked it the atmosphere but he couldn't resist a glass of gin when he needed it.

The Crooked Tree was a trading spot of sort. Weather it be secrets or treasure, this is where most of it went down.

"The usual," he said to the bartender as he sat down in his corner. He really was hoping that he wasn't going to be here. The womanising, irritating, brutish, son of a-

"Mason!" An arm was slung of his shoulder. He really needed his drink if he was gonna have to put up with this. "Long time no see, how's it up there in the wilderness?!"

"Grim," he said as calmly as he could. "What interesting gossip did you hear this time?"

Grim was a part of of the Seven Huntsman was a tall and wiry man with clothes that hung off him stylishly. He presented his knifes without fear and always had one to throw. However, His personality was as rotten as his luck with women.

"You're so disappointing," Grim said sitting down next to his friend. "Can't I just talk to my friend?" He smirked, serving behind his grey eyes gave Mason a chill.

Mason needed his drink. Now.

"Fine, you stubborn arse. I heard a juicy rumour from the guards," he leaned in closer. "There's been a funeral precession for Princess Winter tomorrow. Princess Morgan announce it yesterday that the Princess fell into the frozen river and died. The witch's betrothed fetched the body from the water."

"Poor lass," Mason said gulping down her drink. "That's a terrible way to die. Poor thing."

"Mhh....buts that's not all. There's about three rumours surrounding the whole ordeal. One is that The Black Rose hid the princess so she can challenge the witch. Two, Princess Morgan is keeping her prisoner so she can properly execute her. Three, shes hiding in the mountains."

Mason was quiet for a moment, "That's a bunch of hogwash. Even for you."

"It's the truth!" Grim said loudly. He lowered his voice and said, "It's said she looks a whole lot like Queen Snow. Of course......I haven't seen the late queen, God bless her soul."

"What? Lips red as a rose, skin fair as snow and hair black as night. You're crazy," Mason scoffed. He slapped his money down and left grumbling.

Once he got outside he started pulled his cloak closer to his body, observing the village of wickedly and darkness.

Mason felt something off, like a prick on his back. Just like a feeling he couldn't shake off. There was something amiss in this winter and it grew much more darker.

He shuddered and turned away.

The light was fading. By the time that he reached his cabin in the woods, it would be nightfall.

He wondered if the little lass was awake or was she too exhausted.

'Drowning in the ice sheath? Strange way to die if there was no body to be found.' He thought, as his shadow followed him. 'Looks like I'll need to talk to Miss Retniw about this little matter. Or shall I say, Princess Winter."