Ravensblood Forest rineless

meredith sneezed off the clumps of snow that clung to her face, her pride burning hotter than the ache in her ribs. she batted away the offered paw, her nose wrinkling as she hoisted herself up with a huff. i don’t need no hand from ye, mate, she shot back, voice sharp with indignation. i ain’t some damsel in distress.

her green eyes sparkled with defiance as she brushed the frost from her ruddy coat, shaking herself off like a wet dog. despite her tumble, she stood tall, squaring her shoulders as if to challenge the world—or at least him.

yer lands, then? she asked, her accent thick, words laced with a biting edge. the question hung in the air, curiosity barely masked by her brash tone. they don’t look much for invitin’. what’s so special 'bout 'em, anyway?