Seaside Moors crow feathers and obsidian

continue ignoring just had to,

Though despite somewhat fleeing, her gaze couldn't help but notice the golden coat fluttering toward him. Grímnismál was still young and rather childish, she didn't want to meet the burly man, nor' interrupt as so. Instead after fleeing, she sought herself in the bush. Gleaming, red eyes peering out with a curious glint and a nervousness. 

She was a peeping tom, at the moment.