Wapun Meadow be gentle as you tear me apart

sage eyes widened, and within them danced the fear that seemed to have crawled into her bones and made a home. he was nothing like the mountain man—grizzly, uncouth. a barbarian, the men she'd been taught to avoid. 

he stepped closed, prompting her to take a few steps backward. that low rumble of his voice sent a shiver down her spine, but for all the wrong reasons. her eyes fell and averted, submissive, subservient. the submission that was bit and clawed into her. 

"i—i am, yes." her voice nearly trembled, like a leaf in the wind. "i'm from the west coast. who are you?" not out of formality or politeness, though her tone was hardly unfriendly. just timid.