Black Morass timor

“Maybe I’m just curious to why you keep trying to spirit me away somewhere,” she murmured with a saccharine smile. Delicately, she rose, jaws grasping the squirrel before closing the distance between the two of them and plopping the thing rather unceremoniously in front of him with an arched brow, even as his gaze simmered upon her.

“Maita,” she murmured, albeit with a certain sharpness that one raised as royalty might provide. “Eat. It’s minimal, but it should help aide your strength until your kids find you something larger.”