Herbalists' Cache sleeping mist

blackfell laughs! he laughs, lowly, a tense and loud sound. sun eater tries to bar the way for him, but blackfell seeks to do the same for him. so they are at an impasse, except, blackfell does not seek an impasse. he snarls. he comes forwards, seeking to invade his space, to provoke him.

yes. he says, red eyes settling. they are. pointed words. words made of swords, aimed for sun eater's throat. hackles raising, guard hairs twitching to the thrum of war drums. they are loud, thunderous, and he hears the call of the wild in his chest. in his heart of hearts.

it is black, calloused, scarred. but it beats still. he jabs. breath coming in deep bursts.

a smile comes, crooked and taunting, upon his scarred face. sun eater was a bigger coward, a bigger fool, than what blackfell had prior assumed if he thought blackfell would just leave. now, he would fight. he would fight, whether sun eater wished to come to blows or not. it was the way of men, it was the way of their world.

morwenna would be queen again. blackfell would ensure this.

fight. he demands. or do you fear?