Firefly Ravine borðaðu rassinn minn

Valmúa took no notice of the girl's change beyond the mild relaxation of her posture. I enjoy a good fight like the rest of my kin, she answered, a small grin threatening at the corner of her lips. All who had been raised in Stormhaven knew the language of tooth and claw. From her youth, she had learned this violent dance. She knew the rhythm. She had the bruises and scars to prove it, though all were too small to see through her winter coat.
We are taught when we are small the dances of battle, the eldsystir explained, running up beside the young medic just to bump her hip with her shoulder, as though to demo her abilities. She grinned like a child, satisfied with knowing she could best the pretty little thing in such a dance.