Black Morass depths of depravity

the bark cuts through the air like a whip, sharp and commanding, sending a ripple of tension through irene’s frame. her ears flick back instinctively, a flicker of irritation sparking in her chest at the sheer audacity of it. she had not been under anyone’s rule for a long time, and yet, that sound demanded more than acknowledgment—it demanded obedience.

she had already cleaned herself off, her sleek coat now free of mud, gleaming faintly in the muted light filtering through the swamp’s dense canopy. she took a measured breath, willing herself to maintain composure. though her temper simmered beneath the surface, she wasn’t about to let kóvictus see it.

as she made her way toward the sound, her steps were deliberate, her emerald eyes cutting through the fog until they found him. he stood there, towering and resolute, eyes burning like embers in the haze. and so she held her tongue, offering a dip of her head before him. if she were bound now to this place, she was going to do the one thing she thought she would never do, try.