3/7/2026, 8:27 PM
![[Image: de30rbh-3b0683a6-441b-43e3-821f-97de2c91...kDaKDynxTk]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/9de0281f-9de0-407a-a8c3-cff68eced06b/de30rbh-3b0683a6-441b-43e3-821f-97de2c917037.gif?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiIvZi85ZGUwMjgxZi05ZGUwLTQwN2EtYThjMy1jZmY2OGVjZWQwNmIvZGUzMHJiaC0zYjA2ODNhNi00NDFiLTQzZTMtODIxZi05N2RlMmM5MTcwMzcuZ2lmIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.X3AR7ztue9yyAPqjXnKt7hzjl9ocfI1zPkDaKDynxTk)
her head turns then, slow. for a moment gjalla only looks at him, and there is something distinctly unimpressed in the set of her mouth—as if he has asked a question so foolish it hardly deserves an answer. she indulges him anyhow, begrudgingly:
if i preferred women, it would not be you breathing down my neck.
if a man wishes to flatter,she continues,
perhaps he might try words.the hunger coiling behind her eyes is a thing barely caged. her gaze drifts down him then, a queen's inspection of her favorite soldier. across his shoulders, his chest, the line of his stance where he holds himself steady on the uneven ground. the corner of her mouth threatens a smile, but it is far from innocent and far from kind.
...or his body.burning eyes alone, after all, articulate very little.
she shifts then, a restless roll of her shoulders that sends the long mantle of her fur sliding along her spine. dark brows knit briefly at the fire's mention, but she concedes with a subtle nod. the pink glow of the dawn—or whatever strange fire still stains the sky—took its toll.
the river roars beside them, and for a moment her attention snaps to it like a starving animal to the scent of meat.
nor are you, i take it.the words seem dragged out of her rather than offered.
it sinks its teeth in and refuses to leave. the heat is unbearable.she continues, breath leaving her a fraction heavier. another glance at the water, then back to him, over her shoulder.
come. swim with me.the river would be ice this early in the season, meltwater straight from the hills. exactly what she wants.
unless the great centurion fears a little cold,a taunt to mask the restless hunger crawling through her bones.
it might cool the head.among other things.
