Sawtooth Spire bleed through spaces

He was even larger when he stood, and another urgent rush flowed through her. She stiffened almost imperceptibly when her instincts urged her to bolt — but iron will and crippling pride held her in place. Saturnine maintained an air of cool indifference, her chin lifting as if she'd like to look down her nose at the man — but of course, now that he stood, she would have to look up. At least at this distance, he was not yet towering over her.

A tiny chill raced down her spine.

"Oh, please," she replied. "I suppose one cannot have everything she wants all the time." Wrong, she thought, I can. "And I'm mature enough to handle a little disappointment." Wrong again, but any disappointment she exuded — and it was a poor showing; almost none at all — was entirely manufactured. She was relieved beyond all reason to find herself in this stranger's company, and suddenly, painfully, desperately afraid that he would soon depart.

Green eyes were pulled away from the stranger by the same potent combination of will and pride that'd stayed her anxious paws before. Now she used it to puppet her adrenaline-filled body into a leisurely stroll.

"What is this place, anyway?" she asked as she looked around, unseeing; her attention was trained on the stranger in her periphery. "Do you live here?"