"No doubt." The woman considers her from beneath her hood, lifts the sleek crow to her shoulder. "Opportunity moves swiftly. Have a care you don't miss it."

She turns, then, knowledge imparted and disinterested in entertaining questions. Almost as soon as she steps into the gloom beneath the buildings she's lost within it. The swish of her cloak becomes just one more shadow among shadows.

The moment she leaves, the breeze begins to rise, slowly, snowflakes swirling faster around Natasha. The silent night is receding, and with it the clouds begin to creep over the moon again. She'll have to find her way back to the torches on her own, through the snow and the gathering dark.