Lost Creek Hollow i'll be the axe that clears a forest

Andalusia had taken to pacing some lengths from the others so as not to disturb their rest. She felt the usual buzz from the wear of the hunt, but her skin itched from the scent enwreathed about Harlyn's body. The dark one's heat mocked her, and if her time continued strong, then the Ostrega would consider donning the guise of an outrider until the bitter thistle around her heart withered to naught. Until then she stayed her distance, unwilling to draw near Harlyn while poison twisted within.

Only at the sudden shift did Andalusia draw near. Mordecai's growl drew her rapt attention, and before she even considered the threat, Andalusia had covered the ground between them. Only then did she flash a look to the horizon to assess the danger that approached. She tensed at the sight of the bear and mirrored the gesture of her family around, hackles tall and muscles piqued to meet the ursine's challenge. Andalusia put little stock in her physical strength, but counted herself quick and capable on her feet. She eyed Mordecai to await his instruction, and tried to ignore the swell of Harlyn's scent and the burn of throbbing envy in her ears.