Silver Creek for the man is not of the woman

between the gentle but insistent noise of the creek and her own concentration in her work, addison does not notice harrison for a moment or two. only the eery feeling of being watched, one that sends prickles down her spine, sends her head aloft, and her colorless gaze rests on his face for a brief beat in acknowledgement before fixing on the center of his chest, the rabbit he has caught.

brother, she greets softly, placing the moss down before stepping nimbly up and over the bank, feeling a little unseemingly as she drips before him. she bows her head, eyes lowered. well caught, she compliments his kill, knowing that as much of an ass harrison could be, he is a good provider for the odolf family, and for that, she should be thankful. she is thankful.