Wild Berry Meadow no man will hurl me down to Death, against my fate

his scent is thick, oppressive, and her attention is stolen from the stars and settles immediately on him. he is the size of Vaati, if not larger. older, too, though she makes this assumption based on flashes of yellowed fangs and the weight of his presence. she understood herself to be the focus of the man's stare, something that felt uncomfortably like painting a target atop her spine. 

she rose, smooth grace undercut by her recently changed body and the stiffness that accompanied not moving from her place for days. "what do you want." blunt, firm, but not particularly hostile nor welcoming. it is apparent that a man like the one before her isn't motivated by his desire to spread goodwill and cheer, and she's no longer willing or able to rush headlong into a fight.