
The miqo'te squints against the glaring coastal sun and wrinkles her nose.
More of them. At least this one smells... like lavender?
She has a momentary, vivid memory, but gulps it back when the two passerby begin conversing.Â
Once the tall one tries to lift him, I'll strike.Â
She lifts her heels, minutely, eyes fixed on the sand-strewn longsword. One of her hands rests on the rocky outcrop below her, the other hovers silently over the rough-hewn grip of a makeshift tomahawk.
More of them. At least this one smells... like lavender?
She has a momentary, vivid memory, but gulps it back when the two passerby begin conversing.Â
Once the tall one tries to lift him, I'll strike.Â
She lifts her heels, minutely, eyes fixed on the sand-strewn longsword. One of her hands rests on the rocky outcrop below her, the other hovers silently over the rough-hewn grip of a makeshift tomahawk.