Emberwood pretty in punk

The flaming sylph was not to be deterred from her belligerent agenda. Summer eyed her silently as she challenged him again. Of course he had better things to do than get into a fight. Hunting for one. He could go back to the Spire and do a round of border checking. Hell, he could hunker down at the lake nearby and do some ice fishing. All seemed like much better alternatives to getting into a spar with a complete stranger, especially one younger and more fragile-appearing than the large, black wolf who was built more like a brick wall than an actual canine.

"I do admit, I am a little scared," he murmured, quirking a brow at her. In spite of her complete serious and angry demeanor, he couldn't help the glimmer of humor that sparkled in his eyes very briefly. "But only of what mental illness it is plaguing you that you feel the need to challenge perfect strangers to battles." It was meant in jest. He said it in hopes of breaking this iron exterior of hers. She was far too pretty to look so angry.