Bitterroot Valley smother the sun

gjalla's nature was hardly docile - never would she cower before another or stray from conflict nor confrontation when it approached her so readily.

the silence was an invisible barrier that neither dared to breach. her hindlegs coil into her belly as she adjusts, peering over at him with unfiltered intensity. The man's stare was mystifying, uncertain as if he was waiting for an invitation or for her to curse him for being creepy.

a low huff rolls from her chest, eyes narrowed into slits. "you are staring." Her head tilts away from him, chin pitching skyward as her eyes search the vast expanse of the sky for flecks of light. "speak."