@storywolf liked for a one liner.

The warlike days weren't so far behind them. People were angry, hungry even. The harsh winter hadn't helped anyone. Deer and other game had found tamer climates. Predators and humans alike were starving. There was little reason to not have expected the attack on her caravan, the pillaging. Rosalyn had ran and ran, and ran some more until she was wholly lost. Girls that strayed from the well worn path were so often left to the wolves, weren't they?

Red cloak was pulled tight against her as the bitter, winter wind blew through the trees, through the underbrush that thickly surrounded her within the dark forest. A twig snapped somewhere around her and she spun. Dark eyes blown in fear as she stared off into a direction she thought the snap had been birthed.

SENTENCE MEME ⟶ SORROW-SCOPES FROM TWITTER (PART TWO)

"Listen here, English in America we tip our waitresses and bar staff. Especially when they're stuck serving your ungrateful butt, working single coverage, and need to put some money away for a new carburetor for their car. So unless you got a few Benjamíns hidden away up your fancy sleeves, I'm cuttin' you off for the night. "

@storywolfywolf sent:

may i suggest a drink? bourbon perhaps?

“ which one are you, then? ”

those that have opinions on bravery and cowardice often consider themselves one or the other; theo, if prompted, would label himself the latter. he hasn't been a warrior for a great many years, and even in shifting sand and beneath a sweltering, burning sun, he felt no confidence in the turn of his blade or the flash of his teeth. and after the war, theo had run until his paws chafed down to nothing, the earth cold and wet and harsh around him.

“ i would assume you consider yourself brave, if your opinion of the cautious is anything to go by. ”