Moonspear it's a cold world, you should cover up for the snow

jfc, Lyra's so salty lmfao, wrap this up soon?

Again, there was a silence that Lyra met with twisted features, eyes narrowing as she looked elsewhere, avoiding the sight of the wounded wolf. His reply was equally quiet and vague, and she turned a notched ear to hear it before releasing a soft, angry huff of a sigh. He was infuriating, she decided, and was once again glad she had broken his leg. These Redhawks, when they weren't murdering her family, seemingly enjoyed being obnoxiously confusing.

Lyra finally looked back to him with a glint of annoyance in her gaze, before standing and giving a gentle shake of her coat. "He is a fool," she said, ever wanting to get the last word in. She was tempted to add in, and so are you, but held her tongue. "It's healing," she said instead, gesturing to his leg, not giving him any sort of timeframe for when he could walk again. She was fine letting him work that out himself. She then gave the boy a moment to speak, though did not hide the fact that she was eager to rid herself of his company.