Wapun Meadow Wreath

Wake’s languid pace brought up the rear, gaze floating over the excited bounce of Kirain’s head to study the lie of snowblind fur ahead of them. The stranger’s gait interested him nearly as much as his words; he wondered what physical potential there was to back such a vengeful mind, which he was more than happy to oblige.

In truth, the winter naga wished to indulge fully in the man’s wanton retaliation to slake his own devilish thirsts, but he would pretend, for the good of his image, that it was for Kirain’s sake. And she seemed so eager! He would be happy also to see her give chase— watch her have a good time, as much as he would enjoy enacting revenge on behalf of the nameless snowtreader.

The geesebills loomed ahead. Silent, Wake nudged Kirain towards the east, beckoning her to take a roundabout path, while he prowled to circle in the opposite direction; a pincer maneuver to corner the fat geese pair and drive them towards the waiting fangs of their hunting partner.