8/21/2026, 2:35 PM
Yes, she says. Sverke arches a brow, unconvinced but quite certain prodding that particular exposed nerve will only get him a glimpse of the woman melting back into the shadows and disappearing. The acrid stink of stomach-acid on her breath and fur would argue otherwise - he keeps his mouth shut, not entirely without grey matter inside his skull.
Sverke, said in an entirety of ermine-soft syllables and her strong accent. Sverke nods lightly, parrots her name in return:
Fa'liya. That's pretty.
She says he's far from home, that this is not north. Sverke huffs a dry laugh, sheds a few more scarlet petals with the movement. Lashes droop low and lazy over fire and ice eyes, his tail patting the stone beneath him a couple times.
I'd noticed.Wry, dry humor woven through the rumble of his storm-clad voice.
Bird bring you?
No, my idiot brothers did. The bird is just the latest trouble my family can send my way.He rolls his eyes, not sure how much of that she will catch but there is no more truthful answer. The bird is perched in a nearby tree, shiny black eye angled to perceive the proceedings in keen, cunning silence. Sverke flicks an ear at it, plops his chin back on his paws to watch the shadow-woman again. Droplets of rich gold dapple her along the red, like a curtain of jewels and gold coin.
Why are you out here? Looking for a hunt? Or just....fresh air?
