Herbalists' Cache mintgrass

it were frightened, she guessed. had privilege of assuming. 

her head lowered.

she took a step.

another.

each claw unsheathed and sheathed in turn.

her whiskers felt the tremors of breath.

sweet scent of terror.

ah-lright.

la reine swept her skirts to the side, pulled herself away from la brute terrifiée.

an elegant arm extended, and gestured at the waterfall of crimson. 

'ave at it. pale pink pearls. 'ave your deer.

mischievous glint. a whisper.

boot you won't 'ave a gohd.