Hoshor Plains flashing without a sound

She was a pretty thing, all feminine softness and gentle, cascading colours that Redshank could have found attractive if he saw girls in that way. As he stalked towards her, he sized her up only to judge her level of threat. Weak and starved as he was, the boy knew he had to take care when approaching strangers; each and every encounter had a chance of going south at any moment. His recent skirmishes were proof enough of that.

She turned to him with doe-like auburn eyes, offering a hesitant greeting. Something about her bearing hinted at regality, but Redshank was quick to disregard it and came to a stop a few paces from where she sat, suddenly noticing the the bison who was looking at them. He stared it down, but it remained steadfast, gaze unwavering. "So which one's th'weakest?" he asked, turning back to the girl with a smirk, though even he knew trying to take down a bison would be suicide.