3/26/2026, 6:27 AM
![[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)
gjalla watches the river close over his head in a rush of white noise and fractured light, and for a moment there is only the current—pulling and tugging, relentless in its course. when he rises again, something in her has sharpened. it felt as if she had been honed into a fine point, and into him she must sink her teeth.
the man turns from her. to lower his muzzle to drink, to submerge, anything but meet her gaze head-on. a soldier’s discipline. a man tightening the reins on something that would otherwise run wild.
as if that could scrub him clean of it. this. annoyance comes first, hot and immediate.
no,she speaks in time with him, knowing. her voice has changed. roughened. pulled thin at the edges like it’s been dragged up from somewhere deeper than her throat. her eyes linger upon his reflection. there is truth there, in his mirror-image—in the line of his jaw and the rise and fall of his chest, in his avoidance of her own eyes. the tongue might lie, but the body always speaks the truth.
her tongue presses hard against the back of her teeth, a grounding instinct that fails her just as quickly as it comes. the cold has numbed her skin, but beneath it is throbbing, inescapable heat.
hunger, she realizes dimly, has a shape. it is not frantic, nor wild—it is honed and patient, perfectly disciplined until it isn't. a thing that waits until it knows exactly where bite. it looks something akin to the reflection she stares at now.
this time it is not the river that moves her; water parts around her chest as she closes the space he just tried to make. her head tilts just slightly, breathing in his air.
do i frighten you, seutonius?
