Duskfire Glacier burn

he didn’t speak.
he moved.
like ice breaking loose from the glacier—sudden, unstoppable. a blur of shadow and frost.
his shoulder dropped and he lunged, teeth flashing as he aimed for her ribs, not to maim, but to bruise. to rattle. to remind her that this wasn’t the boy she used to spar with under gentler skies.
his weight crashed into her like a boulder, driving forward, driving through. claws tore earth, jaws snapping with a sound that split the quiet.
no hesitation. no mercy.
he was wrath, and she had called it forth.