cloud lash was not startled. not at first.
she had felt the birds hush. the way the wind curved differently through the grove.
but when she saw the stranger, she did not bristle.
female. tired.
no blood on her breath. no threat in her weight. only the storm of a mind gone too far and now returning.
the sharadoii girl stood with a sprig of mountain mint between her teeth.
she blinked—soft, slow. and then she let the mint fall from her mouth into her palm.
a small nod. no words, of course. only the gentle movement of a girl who lived with the spirits and the herbs and the old ways.
she stepped forward—once. placed the mint beside her. a gesture. a peace.
then she stepped back again.
tail a low sway. eyes steady.