Herbalists' Cache caribou crash

@Suliya

it is a cold, miserable morning. even blackfell finds himself bitten from the cold, having hauled the goat’s hide he’d kept from his hunt with suliya up over shoulders and backside.

in the early morning chill, he roams the territory in search of the same woman. the idea of a spar on his mind—something to drive the chill from his limbs, to keep his blood from freezing in his fucking veins. and a distraction, something to cool the heat that conquered him.

it is easy enough to discern her scent from others and track her through the frostbitten snow.

when he finds suliya, blackbird does not announce himself—instead, he shoves the hide from his shoulders, letting it slump to the ground, and squares himself before her with a sharp lift of his chin—and a snarky flash of teeth.

fight me.