Bearclaw Valley follow me into the golden wild

twitch scoffs, soft but sharp. “sure,” she says, dry as dust and utterly unbelieving. it is instinct, now, to take words with a grain of salt. she doesn't trust plain when they come dressed in something else, settling beneath her skin like an itch she can’t scratch. she decides not to challenge him on it, just keeps her eyes on the valley. 

the wind moves again, curling around them, and she breathes in deep before exhaling slow. her ear flicks, uncertain. "ameline wants me t' go to sapphique for some herbs. guess i'll start there, hm?"