He found her at work, stripping flesh from a hide as seemed to be the custom of many Great Sky women. Miska could not put a paw on why he found it so grotesque to save the skin when he himself had once been the proud owner of several meticulosly cleaned skulls. The flesh of wolves was dry and stringy.
Miska's own flesh felt electric. He approached the windstray woman slowly, golden eyes fixed unblinkingly on her silver. Head low. Hunting.
A wicked grin pulled at the corners of his mouth.
"Miska come to tell you," he said, "That I will have you, moja Srebrna Królowa" Because what point was there in wasting time with small-talk and nonsense. "This is promise."
Miska's own flesh felt electric. He approached the windstray woman slowly, golden eyes fixed unblinkingly on her silver. Head low. Hunting.
A wicked grin pulled at the corners of his mouth.
"Miska come to tell you," he said, "That I will have you, moja Srebrna Królowa" Because what point was there in wasting time with small-talk and nonsense. "This is promise."
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RE: garmr - by Miska - December 10, 2025, 01:40 PM