Moonsong Glacier be the moth to my flame

the viper had not expected a tantrum to unfold as her greeting, but the raven-girl came stomping about like an enraged doe.

displeased, but not one to press for dominance — yet — the serpent took a relenting step backwards. tail pressed stiff to align with her spine, though she made no move to challenge the girl's motion.

she might have chalked up the raven's poor manners with youthfulness, but they appeared visibly near in age. she thought then that the glacier girl was simply uncivilized.

to think they appeared so few in numbers during the dead of winter yet greeted prospective members with childish impundace.

no wonder it seemed a man ruled here alone.

she cast a feigned look of bewilderment towards the black swan, another step backwards. she could read the pressed lines of judgement, of silent demands.

she could play the fool.

"have i done something to offend you?"

fangs sharpened like knives, but tongue cut like a razor.