Herbalists' Cache wind lance

coward.

the thought sears through her like wildfire, and gjalla does not flinch when sun eater barrels for her. her head does not turn, her gaze does not tear from the sky until the very last moment. she waits, lets him close the distance—and only when his teeth flash does she lunge.

his shoulder collides hard into her flank, knocking her sideways, but she uses the force to turn into him. teeth unsheathed, jaws cracking wide like a beast unbound as she slams into his side. flesh meets flesh, bone meets bone. her snarl is thunderous, guttural—how dare you.

her teeth find purchase at the meat of his shoulder, and she bites down, hard. it is not the shallow warning bite of subordinates—it is the claim of a wolf who would kill if she must. the taste of his blood stains her tongue and she does not release.

her heart hammers. her breath is fire. she does not relent. if he meant to punish her, to make her pay, then he would bleed for it.