Duskfire Glacier queen's court

la reine, as any proper royalty, kept a selection of sunrooms, perfumed by budding winter plants, her firm divans always warm. she visited one after the other, day after another, in such a way motivating herself by promise of pleasure - else she'd've given in to reticency, leaving her lands undefended.

the image of a stranger - un loup - occupying her chosen divan for the day, twisted her serene, divine expression into an unsightly frown.

with firmness to her steps, the mademoiselle marched up to the base of her fine seating, yowl rising as she neared.

toi! brut! she shouted from below, lashing the air. what givez you right?!

her intent wasn't yet to resort to violence, and she intended to convey displeasure, rather than a ruffian's aggression.