Sunspire Mountains he threw me on the needle bed, across my dress he laid

A flare of white light snaked its way across the darkening sky, illuminating the shadowed lair Riley rested in. Illuminating briefly a strident, curious figure — which strode towards him on wings of fury.

Her scent was unmistakable, cleaving through heady scents of burning ozone and petrichor; Riley stiffened and pressed his back to the enclave, feeling like an animal trapped.

She would either come to the overhang for protection against the squalls, or she would press on — Riley fervently hoped it was the latter.