Whitebark Stream mulberry

his antics had not gone unnoticed, but his words—those, she chose to address.
what did you think, ridgeback? her tone was calm, but there was an edge to it, something like a blade concealed in a sheath. that i would be stoic? war-like? submissive?
she clicked her tongue, a sharp tsk punctuating her question. sun eater knows who i am. he knows the weight i carry. the blood on my paws. he chose me for what i am, but i see what he wants, too. i chose him.
there was no boast in her words, no false humility—only a clear, unwavering declaration of her own truth. eyes narrowed slightly as they fixed on him, but the barest hint of a smirk ghosted her lips. and now you know.