Sleeping Dragon what you need is an older guy,

in that drawn silence between them sobeille heard many things. the flutter of a distant woodgrouse. the lonely call of a faraway elk. wind coming down from the headlands, dying in shivering gasps among the rustling pine needles of giant pines.

sivaak’s crimson gaze rested on some distant horizon. sobeille wondered what she conjured in her minds eye; what phantoms lurked there, pulling taut the invisible framework that made the enigmatic and unknowable sivaak.

who did dat to you? she finally breathed, wondering how deep the muradoii would have to bury her past to never feel it at all.