Swiftcurrent Creek i am not the kind of girl who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasion

her scorn did not come; mahler blinked and turned back toward aria and her inquiring tone. she had never lost the cloak of elegance that clung to each feature, a lady if ever he had seen one. her engagement was without the hot edge displayed by their alpha female; where the dragonness breathed fire, this was a cool-tongued woman. the juxtaposition would not go without further analysis from mahler, but for now he focused upon her words.
"for now it is well. i have gathered herbs into my den for vinter." a pause; his hard lilac stare roved over her own pleasant expression. "what role do you seek?" slimly built, hale, and soft-spoken, he could not see in her a warrior nor a rogue, nor a hunter of great beasts. what was the feral desire within her?