Wapun Meadow forgo the parable

I’m came a voice of rolling thunder The Regina here, She drew forward, her ice blue eyes becoming whirlpools that caught the man in their tempestuous pull. 

She had been trailing Rala, in hopes of joining her for a hunt so that she could once again measure the woman’s skills. The sound of voices lifted over the brambles and bushes that had obscured her view. Rala’s voice had been calm, measured- but the man’s had the same silken hiss of a coiling snake.

An’ while we are hothpitable enough, but we don’t share hunting groundth with thnarky vagabondth like you. She moved to Rala’s side, so they might stand shoulder to shoulder like a pair of lionesses.