Firefly Ravine i want to be fed every night the breath of extinct creatures

Her words stop the brute from getting any closer and she can feel him staring at her. Of course, it should be obvious who she is but he apologizes anyway, offering an explanation that is cut short by a sneeze. He continues but slinks back further away and settles on the ground. Knowing so little about the scarred brute, she can’t be so sure of his motives and the nagging feeling she should know who he is never really left. She never really pursued the knowledge beyond that meeting but it if she can run into him so easily just on the other side of the ridge, then she needs to figure it out.

“Heda, sha,” she says without thinking about it, watching him a moment longer before she trails off during his apology. “You are fine,” she tells him reluctantly, swinging back to look at him though her eyes often flitter behind him—and to either side—should his daughters show up unannounced. “I had no intention of getting close to your claim,” she explains, should she be on the cusp of his borders, and hoping that her scent isn’t distracting enough that she missed it entirely and crossed over unaware but she thinks that’s low on the list of problems.