Qeya River hunger consuming

blackfell listens, but does not look at her.

i know enough. comes his flat, uninterested response. he wished for her to just go. to leave him be. blackfell turned a slow, appraising eye on her, weighing his options. he could maim. he could kill. he did not think she would willingly stop otherwise.

but the thought fell short, dissipating like breath in the cold.

his patience is thin, stretched taut over simmering irritation. he does not like this game she plays. she wants something from him, that much is clear.

you like to talk. a beat. then, flatly, asking, what do you want?