Otter Creek i birth a betrayed nation i filled with hunted

Thyri watches as the flame kissed boy offers her a smirk that proceeds his response, that which in and of itself is simple enough. He has seen her passing, his tone taking on a draw of the sounds of the words that spill from betwixt his lips, mirroring her own hum. Wanted to see who you were, he speaks next. Thyri’s salmon pink tongue draws across her jowls as she pushes herself to her paws, takes a last drink from the creek before she turns to face the boy in full. He’s much larger than her — though she had known as much even before she stood — he’d be good breeding stock, she thinks critically, as she eyes him again this time with careful consideration. He appears to be too young yet ( though admittedly it’s hard for her to tell for he certainly looks like an adult ) and beyond that she’s still very much at square one in her plans and thus it’s far too early she start considering consorts and children. Still …he’d make a fine consort in her opinion. “I am Thyri,” She introduces herself with a beguiling smile, taking a brazen step closer in the hopes of being allowed to take in his scent from up close. “Who might you be?” The thespian queen purls at him in return.