Blackfoot Forest Flykte

Maiken ran along the tree line, she was better adept at blending. She saw the white wolf, a ring of deep bile rose upon her throat. A Kvitravn, blood enemy, and her chest grew tight and her skin hot. They had came here too, those traitors, the bastards that they were, but she was a healer.

How dare she think such thoughts, she was meant to be neutral, kind, take care of any no matter who they were. However, the prejudices of her youth was not easily thrown aside. She wore the racism like a second skin, even if she didn't act on it. Those chains were hard to break, but she was trying. Trying so hard, because it went against her entire being as a healer to hate anyone.