Silver Moraine toshin

suliya does not flinch beneath the touch of the warrior woman. she lets her look, lets her inspect, though her cool gaze sharpens with something unreadable. her mother had warned her of women like this—ruthless, unrelenting, forged from the ice itself.

but suliya was not a delicate thing either.

her mother’s name sits on her tongue, heavy, unspoken. instead, she lifts her chin, lips twitching into something that is not quite a smirk, but something prideful.

my mother, she answers simply, though there is weight behind the words. she was muradoii.

a pause. the next words come quieter, less certain, as if speaking them aloud gives them more power than she is willing to grant.

my father forbade me from visiting everdark.

a flick of her ear. a shrug of her shoulders. she had never been one for following orders.