The Sunspire iiii. i've been broken

There's displeasure in his wintergaze, in the shocked curl of his lip, for which the wounded wisp feels a curl of guilt, a shrinking flower of embarrassment wilting within her chest for the way she begs so. Yet, she has not the strength to withdraw even a step from his side, held as she is by fear. 

Rhælla barely manages to keep herself from hunkering against the earth as the black shape looms on the horizon - as silent as his initial attack, falling upon her from the trees as she foraged. She's not quite touching the white crow (though she has definitely invaded his space), their pelts just brush, but the Seelie is practically hidden - peering over his pallid bulk only for her eye to dart away as it met bloodened ruby. 

A threat tears from the knight's throat, sonerous in volume, lifting the girl's anxious gaze back to her tormentor - waiting with bated breath to see what he would do. 

Warrior, take the rage from his heart, make him cowardly, make him flee, she begged the patron inwardly.