Shadowwyn Moor stare down the barrel

suliya’s pace slows as she approaches, her icy gaze settling on the young saatsine man before her. his mischievous tone doesn’t phase her, though the faintest curve of her lips hints at some small amusement.

perhaps, she murmurs in agreement, her tone even, steady. but sometimes sleep is its own kind of preparation. even the strongest must rest.

her sharp eyes roam his flame-kissed pelt for a moment, noting the strength in his build, the way his frame speaks of youth tempered by trials. how long have you been among the saatsine? she asks, her voice softening, though it remains edged with her usual coolness. you carry yourself like someone well accustomed to it.

there’s no malice in her words, just a quiet curiosity as she tilts her head slightly, waiting for his answer.