Raven's Watch tìvilar

wouldn't be the worst, faust rumbled, his voice low, carrying a faint edge of amusement as his green eyes followed her movements. she was bold, a fire beneath the frost, and he couldn’t decide if he admired it or found it foolish. perhaps both.

he shifted his weight slightly, claws pressing into the frozen earth as he tilted his head to observe her. she worked over the hare with purpose, her actions raw and deliberate, but there was something else—something deeper. her gaze drifted far, as if caught in a memory that didn’t belong here.

where do you come from, iskava? he asked after a moment, his voice steady, though quieter now, more curious than pressing. he didn’t expect her to answer fully, not yet, but the question hung between them like smoke, drifting into the red light of the setting sun.