Snowforest Taiga what's left of our eden's garden to grow?

No introduction came, nor any acknowledgement of the one she'd offered. Ciri felt herself wilt a little, having been so eager for connection with this youngster from beyond her immediate circle only to be faced with clear rejection. She'd always been such a resilient child, one who would shrug off her sister's frustration whenever she didn't want to engage with her, but something about the dismissal of another who was supposed to be of her pack didn't sit right with her.

Her smile faltered and her raven lobes canted backward a little to communicate her confusion, but she remained rooted to the spot. Did this mean they were not friends? This thought was swept away, however, when the dove turned to face her and piped up with talk of a mysterious, lurking beast. Ciri, suddenly enraptured by the suggestion of storytelling, lowered her sodden haunches to the ground in excited anticipation.

Blue-yellow eyes widened, her expression shifted to one of quiet intrigue. "The black onthat," she drawled, tone hushed, and her gaze was cast downward to look upon her trembling forelimbs to imagine how big this shadow demon's fangs could be. At once, the little Ostrega's mind conjured a wolf-like beast, much bigger than Papa with midnight furs and a glowing crimson stare. It wore a permanent, hateful grin; Ciri's mismatched eyes swept the immediate area for any sign of its approach, and she released a shaky breath to see nothing but wilted flowers and the trees from which she'd wandered.

Apparently, this creature only fed on dark-coloured babes. She bore a sable pelage, but she wasn't some little kid! Ciri blinked back toward Phaedra as she encouraged her away again, and her brow furrowed thoughtfully. "I'm nod scared!" Ciri announced between chattering teeth, despite the flip-flop of anxiety in her belly that this beast was waiting somewhere. "If-if he comes, he can fuck off after I bide 'im!"

Nope. Sorry, Phaedra. You'll have to try harder!