Jade Fern Grove to be a star you must burn

“Barely know you?” he echoed, his voice low, gravelly, as if the words were dragged from deep in his chest. His lip twitched, a faint sneer curling at the edge of his muzzle. “You think I need to know your favorite flower to see exactly what you are?”

His gaze raked over her, tongue lashing across his bridgework. He tilted his head slightly, his voice dropping into something quieter, rougher, like a growl. “So yeah, maybe it pisses me off. Watching someone who could be more decide she's gonna play nomad.”

The last words were spat like venom, but there was something underneath them, something buried deep that he didn’t let surface. Frustration, maybe. Or regret. Whatever it was, it lingered in his eyes for just a moment before he pulled back, shaking his head sharply as if to rid himself of the weight of it.

“Go to your nomads,” he said finally, his voice flat and cold. "It’s not going to kill me. Watching you waste yourself? It’s just sad.”