Qeya River star

i must speak with you. voice comes in a grunt. it is cold, efficient, and lacking any amount of warmth it might had if a cloud did not hover above him. dark, cruel.

his mind was a storm now. a shade of red, far different from the purple that haunted the minds of gjalla. he turns cold eyes onto star eater, paces several feet away, and then stops.

staring off into the woodlands that bury away her den. looking down upon the rise that shadows the length of the taiga river, in the distance he sees the herd moving peacefully. but he knows no peace.

he speaks again with the click of teeth to announce breath. you did not defend me. he did not clarify. not yet.