Bitterroot Valley where the north wind meets the sea

at this, ravah cannot help the amused smile which twitches into the corners of her mouth. no matter what sega said—that covah was dead—ravah knew otherwise.

he was still just as kind-hearted, if only a little more guarded. going out of his way to help others. so noble, so gallant!

mmm, ravah hums softly, moving to brush past elowyn. walking along the river's side edge now, her silvered gaze turning over her shoulder to beckon her along. i growing up by him. the woman says.

tail swishing at her hocks, her gait is leisurely now, though at all times it is light and gathered. the muscles of a seasoned huntress shifting beneath that pale coat, a sheen blessed by the fair winter of the open plains. weird now see him as leader. but happy.

ravah looks to her. you young. an observation, though something else glitters in her eyes. thinking to take husband?

oh, ravah. ever so blunt.