Jade Fern Grove threading the needle

Ivana did not allow him to linger at her flank. To permit a stranger, especially one of such volatility, to stand in her blind spot was a tactical error she would never commit.
As he stopped and looked away, she pivoted. It was a sharp, military motion, her hindquarters swinging around so that her chest and teeth were once again squared directly against him. She would not be circled like cattle. The valkyrie re-established the line of sight, forcing him to look at her or actively ignore a predator facing him head-on.
Her gaze dropped briefly to the dark stain of spit in the snow, her upper lip curling just enough to reveal the pristine white of a canine in a sneer of distaste. It was a crude gesture, fitting for a man who spoke in grunts.
„And silence,” she corrected smoothly, her voice dropping an octave, colder than the wind biting at their fur. „You lack the discipline to stand still, and the breeding to keep your fluids to yourself.”
She took a single, deliberate step forward, invading the personal space he had just tried to claim, challenging him. „Strength and control are common in the north. Do you have that? or are you just muscle and spit?”