Herbalists' Cache caribou crash

her head tilts, pale as snow and just as cold, as if his words are little more than the wind biting at her ears. scare me? there's the faintest smirk, slow and sharp, curling one side of her blackened lips. as if the very thought is amusing. as if blackfell could ever hold that kind of power over her.

you don't scare me, she drawls, voice low and smooth, like the lull before a blizzard. but i won't be gentle with you, either.

and she isn't. she moves without warning, all raw precision—darting forward, shoulders low, weight balanced and centered. her teeth flash for his scruff, testing, not to tear but to grip and shove. the force of her impact ripples through her, pressing against the bulk of his chest as she drives him back, trying to tip his weight, make him stumble.

she breaks away just as quickly, circling, breath visible in short, sharp puffs. her tail flicks, challenging. amused. daring.

show me, then, suliya taunts, ear flicking as if in boredom. show me what strength you think i should feel.