Permafrost Hollows I cannot stay where nature's embrace is lost

blackfell snorts, low and dry, snow flaking from his shoulders as he shifts his weight. crimson eyes linger on faust—measuring, knowing.
don’t flatter yourself. a blunt reply, but there's the faintest pull at the edge of his mouth. it does not last long, before blackfell simply dips his head to the man—passes a lingering gaze to the wounded woman, and then turns on heel. beginning to walk away.
get the woman taken care of, cousin. black words echoing in the snow.

exit BF