Ravensblood Forest rineless

meredith raised a brow at him, her lips quirking with something caught between a smirk and a sneer. oh, aye, she drawled, her voice lilting with the sing-song cadence of a mummer’s accent. mama taught me the best manners fer trespassin’. start with yer left paw, she’d say, always make yer first step a good one.

her gaze swept the woods around them, and she sniffed the air dramatically, narrowing her eyes at him. but by the smell o’ things, ye lot haven’t much of a claim here. barely any musk at all. her words carried a teasing bite, but there was no real venom behind them—just the playful jab of a girl who liked stirring trouble.

she lingered on his mention of a crew, her curiosity getting the better of her for a fleeting moment. yer crew, though, she mused, her tone softer now, a flicker of genuine interest slipping through her otherwise brash demeanor. what kind o’ lot are they? loud an’ rowdy, or more the skulkin’ sort?

but before he could answer, her smirk returned, sharp as ever. not that it matters. looks like they’ve got a fine, strappin’ guard dog in you. her laughter followed, light and airy, like the last gust of wind before a storm.