Two Rivers Isle he jests at scars that never felt a wound

I so enjoy your writing. <3

They were a study in opposites, though neither of them knew it at that moment. Everything Raven had ever known had been a marathon. Her pursuit of medicine, her rise up the ranks, finding a mate, finding herself, all of it had been a labor measured in years. She was the master of marathons, sitting opposite the sovereign king of sprints. And yet conversation was so easy -- albeit somewhat inappropriate in parts. She liked him. People like Jagwyr could be really eye-opening at times, given the right subject.

He asked her about the lands, and she shrugged, lazing back over on her side and inhaling deeply the sweet fragrance of the soft grass, relishing the subtle, metallic notes of blood tinged in with the scent. "Honestly, I'm fairly new around here myself. My pack just moved here not long ago. Not sure how much I like it yet, to tell you the truth. Our plateau is a little swampy and exposed for my taste. But obviously, the hunting isn't bad."