Qeya River jedan

THANK U <3

you wanna? it sounded, to wren, more like an invitation, and now she saw a good opportunity to see what this senka was made of. she raises a brow before gesturing toward them, right as the deer disappear into the brush; a sweep of ochre amid the emerald which camouflaged their plump, summery bodies.
well, i guess they're not making it easy for us, she chuffs, settling into a trot with her nose pushed into the bloom. she does not gesture for senka to follow — only assumes that she will.