Lion Head Mesa quamdiu

she gestures in assent at his question, mouth quirking in a half-grimace. oh, yes, she'd been there. and nearly lost her life for it, the bear rearing his ugly head at the exact wrong time. and had she been able to do it, had she been able to find Nyra. . .

the grimace turns to an ugly scowl, and her eyes grow suddenly dark.

teeth show, white and gleaming, as her lips curl upward. she casts another glance at the soldier, catching him in her periphery, though her head is still turned toward the crags.

will you fight? that single, burning orb asks, beckoning an answer.