Sawtooth Spire You must've gone and put a spell on me

Stag's reaction was... well, a bit extreme, thought Wylla, but that didn't mean she didn't get a kick out of it. There was nothing quite as intoxicating to her as being submitted to and the more severe that submission was, the more she liked it. It was followed swiftly by guilt. Stag hadn't done anything warranting the level of deference he showed and it was wrong of her to relish it when she hadn't even wanted it.

Shhh, she cooed, seriously, it's fine. I wasn't paying attention. It was the closest Stag would get to a proper apology for Wylla's reaction. She beckoned for him to follow along the borders if he wished. It was smart of you to think about jumping over the log, she offered, lips lifting into a wry smile at the memory. Stop, she told herself, choking down an inappropriate snigger, it wasn't funny. But it was funny now that she knew Stag had more or less recovered. Watching others absolutely wipe out was always funny. It would've worked if not for the ice. 'Course, I have no idea how she didn't get stuck doing what she did.

She shot Stag a conspiratorial look and whispered, she must be a witch.