Firestone Hot Springs gibbous

her thoughts turned inward at the young woman's words. 
in my home, women can not do such things.
she thinks of winterhelm.
"where i am from—" she began, "most men believe they are entitled to woman's body. they lay claim without regard." she scoffs and it is venemous and sharp and harsh. like cracking ice. and her wrist, where her wedding band once sat, seems to burn for a moment.
"revolting."
she turned, and continued to walk forth, "anoré." she answers bluntly. it was getting easier by the day to impart her newly chosen name. lunarre had died the day she left that cursed kingdom.
"and yours?"