Silver Moraine toshin

suliya does not bristle, does not waver beneath the weight of sivaak’s ruby glare. instead, a slow raise of her brow—a flicker of amusement, but only just.

you think me weak, then?

her voice is quiet, edged with something sharp, something knowing. she does not move as sivaak circles her, though her muscles remain coiled, primed, ready.

you see what you wish to see.

a simple truth, one spoken without heat. if sivaak wished to find weakness in her, then she would. but that did not make it so.

suliya shifts her weight, tilting her head just slightly.

and yet, here we are.

a pause. a challenge.