Fairspell Meadow Whiplash

the to’lang suddenly shifted, a bone set loose as it was placed on the ground. qiao shifted her gaze from the satchel to the stormharried youth, noting the scent of agave and sand to his pelt. 

there are spells that could have great use of your tongue, you know. qiao returned, a pleased smile lingering for a second before it was steeped in her usual coldness. much like he had learned to live with her crabbiness, she had become accustomed to his youthful energy and quick tongue. what did you learn in the south?