Qeya River hunger consuming

he turns then, strongly, snapping teeth. he speaks lowly and it is a growl: you will find no ally in me.

it is the only time he will say it. let it be known: they were not the same. as far as he is concerned, he has made clear what stands between he and this woman—and it is only coldness projected by him.

he is not one she can manipulate. she will know this if she is wise. he speaks only in battle tongue. crimson eyes scan her with a birthed loathing that grows fast. he says: if sun eater thinks with more than his groin, he will see you for the vermin you are and cut you down swiftly. and it is not blackfell’s place to do, even if he itches so. her arrogance sickens him.

he grins then but it comes not from joy; and makes to brutally stalk off, his anger so palpable it might bring steam to sizzle from his onyx hide in smoke.

exit blackfell !