Jade Fern Grove to be a star you must burn

"Not sure that's how I'd characterize myself." She mused half-heartedly.

Her jaw tightened as his scoff rang out, loud and dismissive, echoing in the space between them. She stared at his back, at the sharp planes of his shoulders as he turned away.

She shot him a look from the corner of her eye. Her expression, carved from something colder than stone, cracked just enough to let a glimmer of irritation seep through. The faintest twitch of her ear betrayed her confusion.

“A mistake?” she echoed, but threaded with incredulity. She turned her head, her piercing gaze snapping to him like an arrow loosed from its string. “The fuck’ve any nomads done to you? Steal your lunch?”

Her tail swayed behind her, not as a taunt but as a quiet mark of her conviction. Gjalla had always been a woman of thorns, and now, in the face of his judgment, she felt every one of them bristle.

"Don't lose sleep over it, Blackfell. I won't." The words were thrown over her shoulder, dry and cutting, but her steps slowed just enough to see if he’d respond.