Herbalists' Cache raining fire

suliya does not move.

her sharp gaze cuts to him, sizing him up. he is broad, arrogant—she can smell it on him, the confidence of a man used to taking space. but she does not step back, does not yield.

who are you? her voice is low, steady, laced with quiet command.

her tail flicks once. her body holds tension, muscles wound like steel beneath pale fur, but her face remains still, unreadable.

not go anywhere until sivaak say.

her head tilts slightly, waiting, daring him to press further.