Herbalists' Cache change my mind so much I can't find it

gjalla huffed, a sharp exhale that sent a plume of frost into the air. of course he’d come to speak of that. not in a million years would the gods spare her of this torture.

her expression did not change—no flicker of surprise, no visible discomfort, but her jaw tightens, the sinew of her muscles going taut beneath her thick coat. She did not look at him, instead focusing on the bloodied remnants of the caribou bone, her tongue running idly over her teeth as if still tasting the marrow. 

"it isn’t," she said quickly, a promise clipped and cold. anything to veer from the topic as swiftly as possible. "saatsine will not break for the sake of a spat."

she might, perhaps. hence, the gnawing. gjalla was not unaware of how the pack worked—it was a close knit group, she knew her fight with blackfell would spread further than she wished. she was trying to smother the embers before they caught flame through excessive occupation and avoidance.

"it is personal," The words were spoken with finality, and the message is clear: it was not his business. but then, after a beat, her gaze flicked toward sun eater, sharp beneath her furrowed brow. 

"did he come to you?"