Lone Star Mountain sankrasha

skaigona scarcely had time to get her bearings before she and ezra were approached. for a fleeting, crazed moment, she thought it might have been amadeo.
but this man was younger, with a boyish voice which he used now to call out.
whirling with the force of what she'd done, who she'd left behind, bitterly aware that each step had followed in that of mother and mahler, skaigona's own hackles rose to life.
saliva glistened wetly as white teeth flashed their entire set to the stranger, a step forward grabbed from the land as she snarled loudly enough to ricochet from the stone.
her meaning was clear. skaigona glowered once more before she began to walk on, keeping thin body between her son and the unknown, her eyes fixed on the man as they moved past him. anyone could hurt them. anyone could be a shadow wanting to grab more from rivenwood. never. never.