In an office adorned with intricate, symmetrical patterns carved into stone walls and illuminated by soft, golden light, a man sat at his desk. The room, though grand in scale, reflected the strict austerity of its owhe desk itself otless, every part and quill precisely arranged. His robes, while undeniably of the fi quality, bore a design that spoke of purpose rather tharavagahis ace of order, and opulence had no pce within its hallowed halls.
The man appeared youthful, but there th to his amber eyes that spoke of tless years of wisdom and observation. His features were almost unnaturally smooth, his plexion devoid of blemishes or imperfes. Though undeniably human in shape, his beauty edged toward something otherworldly—rivaling the allure of a sire firmly mase. His short, dark brown hair, streaked with flecks of silver, betrayed his true age, hinting at a life spent uhe heavy mantle of duty. His -shaven fad precise demeanor pleted the image of a man who embodied discipline.
“A new aether beast, you say?” he asked, his voice as calm and measured as his surroundings.
“Yes,” replied the priestess standing before him. Her hands were csped tightly in front of her, though whether from respect or residual fear was unclear. “It spoke. Not disjointed words, either—full sentences, articute and deliberate. Whether it was capable of gehought or had merely learned nguage as a means to terrorize the faithful, I ot say.”
The man’s gaze sharpened, his amber eyes seeming to pierce through her. “What did it look like?” he asked.
The priestess hesitated, her posure faltering as she recalled the memory. “It stood almost as tall as the watchtower,” she began, her voice trembling slightly. “Its form was vaguely femi grotesquely distorted—tall and wiry, with jagged spines and cruel, sharp edges that jutted from its body. Its most terrifyiure…” She paused, visibly shuddering. “...were its eyes. Five of them, pure bck, yet they seemed to glow with an unnatural light in the darkness. They were fixed upon us, unblinking, like it was studying us.”
“Troubling,” the man stated, his toral, betrayiher arm nor doubt. “You did fend it off, though?”
The priestess nodded quickly. “Yes, with the valiance of the soldiers statiohere and the power of my Dawherium, we were able to drive the creature away. It fled toward the steppes.”
For a long moment, the man was silent, his gaze distant as he processed her report. A new aether beast—a talking one, no less—was cause for . Such creatures rarely demonstrated intelligence or articution beyond guttural sounds and fragmented words, making this an anomaly. Yet, what troubled him most was the dire it had fled.
The steppes.
He leaned ba his chair, steepling his fingers as his thoughts turned over the implications. The Serkoth s had loed the Snty’s efforts t them into the fold, their stubbornness proving a stant thorn in the side of order. If this beast was headed into their nds, it could mean one of two things: either it sought to terrorize the beastfolk, as it had the faithful, or it inteo align with them. The tter possibility was far more ing.
The priestess stood silently, awaiting further instru, though the tension iarayed her unease. Finally, the man spoke, his voice as cold and precise as the gears of a clock.
“Thank you for your report, Solenne. tinue your prayers fuidand strengthen your watch over the faithful,” he anded. “I will sider this matter personally. If this creature aligns itself with the Serkoth or their allies, it could prove a threat greater than their defiance alone. May you live in the grace of the Architect.”
“As with you, High Priest Kaelen.” The priestess bowed deeply, murmuring her gratitude before taking her leave, the soft echo of her footsteps fading as she exited the room. The man remained seated, staring at nothing in particur as his mind worked through the possibilities.
“A talkiher beast,” he murmured to himself, his fiapping softly on the desk. “Curious. And troubling.”
After a moment’s thought, he reached for the quill and part, penning a letter in his immacute handwriting. The Circle would o know of this development—and more importantly, preparations would o be made.
Since arriving in Nymoria, Vivienne’s experiences had been a strange colle of sights aions. First, the dark, crystal-lit ruin where shadows danced and whispered—a pce filled with delicious aetheric morsels. Then, a forest cloaked in fear, its trees sheltering a pitiful little dawn priestess and a scattering of terrified mortals. And finally, a modest vilge, poputed by nervous folk who scurried like mice at the sight of her.
But this... this was somethiirely different.
Beyond the polished white walls of the Serkoth e y a sprawliropolis, alive with movement and purpose. The city's heartbeat thrummed in the air, a rhythm of erce, tradition, and vigiohways wove between t structures, each adorned with intricate carvings depig lekine history: fierce battles, triumphs over nature, and the unyielding strength of the pack. Bridges spanned over streams and als that cut through the city, their waters glinting like molten silver uhe midday light.
The air was thick with the sts of roastis, wildflowers, and the faiallig of freshly fed ons. Lekine of all shapes and sizes moved with purpose, their fur ranging from earthy browns to icy whites, ated with ceremonial braids, beads, and streaks of paint. Children darted between market stalls, ughter ringing out as merts called to passers-by, their wares gleaming on dispy tables. Hunters, bcksmiths, and warriors mingled alongside schors and healers, their distinct roles woven seamlessly into the fabric of the city’s life.
There were also people unlike any Vivienne had entered before. Beyond the humans and the wolf-like lekine she already khe city teemed with an array of otherworldly figures. Tall, androgynous folk moved gracefully through the crowd, their fins shimmering along their forearms and calves like the delicate frills of deep-sea creatures. Among them walked individuals with three arms brang from each shoulder, their pitch-bck skin dazzling like steltions e to life. Starbinders, Vivienne guessed, intrigued by their celestial allure. And then there were goblins—a bustling, lively preseh wide, expressive eyes, poieeth, and rge ears of varying sizes that twitched at every sound. Their button noses added a strange charm to their sharp features, and she noted, with some curiosity, that all the goblins she saw were women, their forms unusually generous for such diminutive frames. Not a single male goblin was in sight.
The sheer diversity was intoxig, a far cry from the desote ruins and shadowed forests Vivienne had known until now. Her gaze roamed from face to face, trag the intricate stories etched into every figure she saw—each bead in a braid, every streak of paint, each quirk of form a testament to lives she could only imagihe vibrancy of it all threateo overwhelm her, yet she weled it like a long-awaited feast. Her smile grew wider, her excitement barely restrained.
“They’re staring at you,” Rava murmured, her voice low and edged with tension.
Vivienne hummed, a note of amusement threading through her tone. “And I am staring at them,” she replied, her qui of eyes twinkling with curiosity. “Is this not how introdus are made?”
“I suppose that’s your way of doing things,” Rava said dryly, guiding a distracted Vivie of the path of a lekine hunter whose wide-eyed stare lingered a moment too long. “First, a long, uling stare from a creature plucked from nightmares. , friendship.”
“Exactly! You uand me.” Vivienne ccked her cws together in delight, the sound light and ringing like crystalline windchimes. “I just want to make friends with everyone. And if I take a little nibble on their aether now and then, it’s purely to get acquainted. Like how a dog sniffs things, you know? pletely harmless.”
Rava gave her a sideways gnce, one brow raised in sharp scepticism. “So, you’re admitting to being a beast, then?” she asked, smirking.
Vivienne pced a hand over her chest, mock sdal painted across her face. “Beast? I prefer the term ‘mystical predator with fir,’ thank you.”
Rava huffed a ugh despite herself and shook her head. “You’ll need more than fir to survive here, Viv. My people may be curious now, but curiosity fades quickly when danger feels too close.”
“Danger?” Viviened, tilting her head, her grin mischievous. “Why, I wouldn’t hurt a hair on their adorable furry heads unless, of course, one of them attacks me. Then I might have to get a little creative.”
Rava’s smirk vanished. “Vivienne.”
“Fine, fine,” Vivienne sighed, waving her hand. “I’ll behave. No g, biting, or ‘creative’ self-defenless absolutely necessary. See? pletely civilised.”
Rava shook her head, the sternness in her expression softening slightly. “I hope you mean that. My people are proud, Viv. The Serkoth values honour and tradition above all else. If you cross the wrong line…”
“I won’t,” Vivieerrupted, her toler. She held Rava’s gaze, and the pyful edge she so often wielded softened into something genuine. “You have my word. No trouble. Not here, not in your home. Not unless asked.”
Rava studied her ily, her lupiures taut with lingering doubt. After a moment, she nodded. “Good. Because when you meet my mother, you’ll o be on your best—no, better behaviour than usual.” She paused, her expression growing sombre. “She’s the first wall of the steppes—strong, unyielding, unshakeable. A protector to her people and a storm to those who stand against them.”
“She sounds like an incredible woman,” Vivienne said softly, her voice carrying a wistful uone. Her qui of eyes flickered with an uncharacteristic vulnerability. “I wonder… what my children thought of me.”
Rava’s features softehe edge of formality in her posture melting away. “If what I’ve seen is anything to go by,” she begaohoughtful, “they would have seen someone funny, g, and intelligent—a person worth looking up to.”
Vivienne’s cheeks darkehe faint flush trasting against her otherwise inhumaures. She smiled coyly, her voice quieter now. “You’re trying to make me blush, aren’t you?”
Rava snorted, folding her arms as her tail gave an impatient flick. “If I wao embarrass you, I’d just ret all the times you’ve tried to ‘charm’ me and flopped harder than a fish on dry nd.”
“Oh, but those weren’t failures,” Vivienne tered with a slow, sly grin, leaning just a touch closer, her voice dipping into a velvet purr. “And deep down, you know it.”
Rava arched an eyebrow, unimpressed, though the faiwitch of her ears betrayed her. “You’re delusional.”
“Am I, though?” Vivieeased, straightening with a mo shrug. “Or are you just relut to admit that you’re secretly eained by my relentless efforts?”
Rava let out a dramatic sigh and began walking again, shaking her head. “Eained, maybe. But it’s like watg a pup bark at its own shadow—adorable, in a pitiful sort of way.”
Vivie out an exaggerated gasp, clutg her chest. “Wounded! Betrayed! I’ll have you know that I am a master of sedu, subtlety, and intrigue.”
“Subtlety?” Rava shot her a pointed look over her shoulder. “You? The creature who literally radiates with dusk aether and has cws that click like chimes when you’re excited?”
Vivienne paused mid-step, her grin never faltering. “Fine. Perhaps not subtle. But irresistible? Absolutely.”
Rava turned away, clearly doh the exge, but Vivienne swore she saw the er of her panion’s mouth twit amusement.
Ahead of them loomed a massive structure, its t presence dwarfing the surrounding buildings. It rose at least twice as high as any other edifice Vivienne had seen thus far, its sleek walls posed of the same polished white stohat made up the city’s outer defehe stone gleamed in the fading light, catg the st rays of the sun as it bathed the structure in a warm, golden glow. Despite its size, there was an elegao it—its smooth surfaterrupted only by intricate carvings and t ns that seemed to stretto the sky.
Vivienne could feel the weight of history in the air, as if the building held not just the present, but the echoes of tless geions before her. She couldn’t help but marvel at it, her dark eyes trag every curve aail of the stonework, her excitement bubbling up again.
“This is it?” she asked, her voice soft, almost reverent as she gazed at the mo before her.
Rava’s tail flicked with a mixture of pride and apprehension. “This is the Hall of the Serkoth ,” she replied, her voice steady but with an edge of something else—respect, maybe, or even a touch of awe. “It’s not just a building; it’s the heart of our people. Everything you see here—this city, these walls, the very nd we walk on—it’s all shaped by the legay .”
Vivienne nodded, her smile turning more ptive. She could sehe weight of those words, the reverence Rava held for this pce. It wasn’t just a structure—it was a symbol of survival, of strength, and of everything Rava held dear.
As they drew closer, the entrao the Hall loomed before them—a grand archway framed by t statues of a warriors, their eyes sculpted with such precision and iy that it almost felt as though they were watg with quiet judgement. The doors themselves were massive, crafted from thick, weathered wood that bore the marks of age, yet stood firm with enduring strength. Their surface was adorned with intricate carvings, ses of battles won, aors revered, and gods honoured—a testament to the ’s rich history and their unbroken lineage.
Fnkiher side of the entraood two lekine guards, a man and a woman, their presenanding and stoic. The man was broad-shouldered, his fur a deep, earthy brown, and his gaze as sharp as the bde at his side. The woman, standing just a step behind him, had a sleek white coat with streaks of silver running down her arms, her posture as poised as her expression. They stood like statues themselves, seemingly a part of the very architecture, their eyes sing the approag figures with careful scrutiny.
Rava approached them with a quiet fidence, her tail swishing just once before she stopped in front of the guards. She exged a feords with them in a nguage Vivienne didn’t reize, and the guards nodded, stepping aside with a synised fluidity that seemed rehearsed.
Without another word, Rava pced her hand on the door, pushing it open with a deep groan as the heavy wood creaked under her touch. The sound echoed in the hall, drawing attention from within.
Vivienne, a mixture of curiosity aement bubbling within her, followed closely behind. She could feel the weight of all that history pressing in on her, but there was something else—a tangible energy in the air that made her feel both small and signifit at once. As they stepped into the Hall, the cool, inse-sted air seemed to wele them, the vastness of the space swallowing up their footsteps.
Ihe hall stretched endlessly, its high ceilings supported by ns that seemed to stretch to the very heavens, their surfaces etched with more detailed carvings—victories and sacrifices immortalised in stohe floor beh them was made of smooth, polished stone, a deep grey that reflected the dim light from the torches lining the walls.
At the far end of the hall stood a raised ptform, its steps worn from turies of use. Upon it sat figures of authority—elders of the Serkoth , their expressions stern and unyielding, watg the pair as they approached. Their eyes held the wisdom of ages, ahere was something inscrutable about their gaze. Vivienne couldn’t help but wonder how many had e before her, seeking to prove themselves worthy in this very space.
In the tre of the room, atop a throne crafted from wood, bone, and silver, sat a woman who seemed rger than life itself. She towered over those around her, her presence almost overwhelming. Even Rava might have appeared small in parison. The woman’s head was that of a wolf, her golden eyes gleaming with a peing iy that felt as though they could see into the very depths of one’s soul. Her fur, a muted mix of grey and white, had lost its youthful lustre over the years, now matted and worn with age. Yet, the fur remaihid imposing, like the remnants of a great staps in the coat revealed tless scars, eae a sileament to the many battles she had survived and the blood she had shed for her people.
Her posture was unyielding, like stone carved into the likeness of a warrior who had known the cost of survival and honour. There was no softness in her gaze, only the hard-won wisdom of someone who had seen empires rise and fall. This was not simply a leader, but a living embodiment of the Serkoth ’s fierce history.
Rava halted before the ptform, her gaze flig to Vivienne for a fleeting moment. There was a subtle shift iance, a stiffening of her shoulders, a sign of respect—or perhaps fear. She did not speak, but her posture alone spoke volumes. The gravity of this moment was not lost on Vivienne. She could feel the weight of it, the presence of this woman whose very being seemed to and reverence. Vivie Rava’s gaze with quiet determination, her own stanyielding. She could not afford to falter now.
The sileretched out, thid expet. Even the flickering fmes in the sces seemed to burn a little brighter as the room awaited the move. Vivien her breath steady, her pulse quiing with the sehat what came would shape the path ahead. There was n back.
The woman ohroilted her head slightly, her gaze fixed upon Vivienne as though she were weighing her very soul. Her eyes gleamed with an a wisdom, sharp and unwavering. When her voice came, it was deep and resonant, like the rumble of distant thunder, filling the space around them.
"Wele home, my daughter," the figure ohrone spoke, her toh anding and den with decades of authority. "You were expected home two weeks ago. You are te."
Rava’s breath caught in her chest, but she steadied herself before replying. She gave a respectful nod, l her eyes just enough to show deference. “Yes, High Fang Korriva. My deepest apologies. I was captured.”
The High Fang’s golden eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she processed Rava’s words, her expression unreadable. She then tilted her head, a heavy sigh esg her lips. "Yet you stand before me now. Why?" Her voice carried a weight that pressed down on the room, as if the very walls were listening for an answer.
Rava hesitated for only a moment, then straightened, lifting her to meet her maze with unwavering resolve. “Because I was saved. Not by my own doing, but by someone who owes me nothing.”
The High Fang’s eyes flicked to Vivienne, narrowing once more. A slight shift in her posture, as though something had caught her attentioh the surface, but she said nothing for a long moment. Finally, she spoke, her voice heavy with suspi and curiosity.
“Saved by whom?” The High Fang asked, her voice ced with intrigue, though the fairace of caution underscored her words, like a flicker of lightning in a calm sky.
Rava turned slightly, her gaze steady as she motiooward Viviehis is Vivienne. She has saved me more than once. Without her, I would not be here.”
With that, the High Fang’s attention shifted fully to Vivienne, her gaze like a weight settling on her, pierg and calg. For a moment, Vivien a strairring in the air—an almost tangible presence, like the pressure before a storm. The Aether around her seemed to shift and swirl, the iy of it strig her form, as though she was being drawn into the very heart of a storm.
The tempest and dawher seemed to csh, ing around her like two opposing forces, pressing down with an iy that would have left most trembling. If she had been capable of drawing a breath, she might have found it difficult to do so. If fear had been within her, she might have felt its cold grip tightening around her chest. But Vivien none of those things.
Instead, she felt something else—something that stirred awe deep withihe power of the High Fang was undeniable, rid dense, like a force of nature made ma. It was the heaviest Aether she had entered in Nymoria, save for the Loam Titan she’d met during her first week in this strange nd. But this—this was different. This was a force that anded respect, a presehat could bend the world itself to its will.
Vivienne didn’t flinch. Instead, she stood tall, her smile a small but genuine curve of respect. The weight of Korriva’s Aether only heightened her awareness of the power before her, and she found herself impressed—more than she had expected to be. This was no ordinary being. The sheer depth of Korriva’s presence filled the room, almost suffog in its iy. But instead of retreating from it, Vivienne leaned in, drawn to it.
Slowly, she began drawing the Aether into herself, feeling its raw, storm-like force swirl around her, challenging her with every pulse. It was thid unyielding, pressing against her sciousness, but she weled it. There was a distinct edge to the Aether here—temperamental, fiery—but also deeply grounded in the earth, like the bones of the mountain itself.
Vivienne’s form shimmered faintly as she allowed the Aether to seep into her being, abs it like a sponge drawn to water. Her presen the room seemed to shift as her e with it deepehe air arouirring, responding to her i. She wasn't just standing uhe pressure anymore—she ting it, drawing oempest, elling it into herself.
The room seemed to hold its breath. Rava watched in silence, a flicker of unease crossing her face as she felt the tensioweewo forces. Korriva’s gaze hardened, sensing the challenge rising within Vivienne.
"You dare take in my Aether?" Korriva’s voice rumbled, a low growl that resonated deep in the chamber. "You think you wield it?"
Vivienne’s smile grew ever so slightly, her eyes gleaming darkly, like a star slowly igniting. She wasn’t just abs the Aether; she was moulding it, reshaping it to her will, a quiet fidence radiating from her. “Not wield it, High Fa it.”
The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, as though Vivienne had unveiled some hidden truth, some secret only those who had walked the edges of creation could uand. Korriva’s golden eyes, sharp and calg, narrowed. She leaned forward slightly, the weight of her presetling bato the room as she scrutinised Vivienne.
“You speak of things I do not think you fully uand, creature,” Korriva said, her voice measured but with a faint edge of curiosity g it. The storm of her Aether still swirled around Vivieesting her, pressing dowhere was no mali it—only a sense of deep intrigue. “To eat my Aether is to cim it. To take it within you is to take a part of me. Do you think you survive such a thing?”
Rava stid beside Vivienne, her brow beaded with sanic flickering in her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught ihroat. Her maze owerful enough to silence even the bravest of souls.
Vivienne, however, remained unfazed. Her smile only grew wider, the shadows in her eyes deepening as she tilted her head slightly, studying the High Fang with a mixture of amusement and respect. She was unbothered by the pressure, the storm of Aether swirling around her as though it were a mere breeze.
“No, High Fang,” Vivienne purred, her voice low and smooth, almost pyful. “Yenerously sending it my way, and I’m just having a little nibble.” She leaned forward slightly, her lips pulling into a grin that revealed the inky bess of her tongue, which she pushed out, the tip of it trag her lips in an almost teasing manner. “Just a taste. I promise, nothing too overwhelming.”
Korriva’s golden eyes flicked between Vivienne and her daughter, her expression unreadable. The air between them crackled with tension as she took irange, almost unnatural calm Vivienne exuded. The High Fang’s Aether shifted again, still pressing down but no longer suffog. There was a shift, an unspoken reition in the air—something clicked into pce, though Vivienne wasn’t sure what it was just yet.
Korriva's lips quirked ever so slightly, a smile pying at the edges of her mouth, but it was hard to say whether it was amusement or something else. Her Aether, still dense and tempestuous, pulsed with a new iy, but this time it felt like an invitation rather than a challenge.
“You are not like any creature I have met, Vivienne,” Korriva said, her tone a mix of admiration and curiosity. She leaned forward slightly, her massive frame t, yet there was a softness in her voice. “But I have learo trust aore than words. And your as speak volumes.”
Vivienne bowed deeply, a gesture of respect yet ced with her trademark fidence. “I’m gd they do.”
Korriva studied her for a moment longer, her golden eyes narrowing just slightly, though there was no mali her gaze. She leaned back, her heavy furred body settling more fortably against the throne, and her voice became lower, more measured. “So, what are your iions going forward?”
The question hung in the air like a challenge, but Vivienne wasn’t deterred. She straightened, meeting Korriva’s gaze with a glimmer of something far darker, far more ambitious, than a mere promise of loyalty.
“My iions?” Vivienne echoed, her smile shifting into something more thoughtful. “To survive, of course. To learn. To grow. But more than that…” She took a step forward, her eyes gleaming with something deeper, something that felt almost a. “I io ge things.”
Rava’s breath hitched slightly beside her, the weight of Vivienne’s words settling in. Korriva’s expression didn’t ge, but there was a slight tension in the way her Aether hummed, as if testing the air for hidden meaning.
Then, the stoian grinned widely, though still with regal posure. “I thought I reized that mark, that signature on your soul. You’ve been touched by the divine, haven’t you?”
Vivienne offered a knowing smile, her gaze steady and appreciative. She found herself liking this woman. “Perhaps.”
Korriva stood taller, her presence shifting as she rose from her throne. She was an imposing figure, even more so when standing, allowing Vivienne a clearer view of her. The high fang was adorned in a mix of leathers and furs, the light armging her lithe, yet muscur frame. Her build was top-heavy, her broad shoulders tapering into a lean waist, giving her a formidable, battle-ready appearahough it was tempered by the wisdom in her eyes. Every movement seemed measured, like the calm before a storm.
Vivieudied her silently, the aura of power emanating from Korriva unmistakable, but it wasn’t just strength she sehere was something more, something deep—an a, unyielding force. Ah it, a flicker of something warmer, like the embers of a fire waiting to ignite.
“I hereby decre Vivienne a friend of the Serkoth , and she shall be under our prote, so long as she honours our ws and traditions.”
Korriva's voice was firm, but there was a touch of warmth in her eyes, a rare softhat not many would see. Rava, who had been holding her breath, exhaled sharply, her shoulders rexing in the relief of the moment. Vivienne, for her part, ined her head slightly, a mix of gratitude and curiosity swirling behind her gaze.
"Thank you, High Fang," she said, her voice smooth, yet there was something deeper ione—respect, perhaps, or a reition of the weight of this decration.
Rava's lips curved into a small smile, relief washing over her. The tension in her body slowly ebbed away as she took a step closer to Vivienne, her earlier apprehension easing.
"I will stay by your side," Rava said quietly to Vivienne. "And now, it seems, you have the support of the Serkoth as well."
Vivienne gave her a sidelong gnce, her eyes twinkling with a knowing gleam. "Naturally." She scoffed as if this was the easiest clusion to reach.
Korriva let out a low chuckle, deep and resonant, like the distant roll of thunder before a storm breaks. "Indeed. It seems we shall have much to discuss."
“Perhaps! There are many things I am curious about,” Vivienne replied, her smirk as sharp as ever, but her tone carried a genuine eagerness.
Korriva’s pierg golden gaze shifted to her daughter. “You may rest for today, Rava. Tomorrow, you will be debriefed in full. Until then, take this time to recover.” Her expression softened ever so slightly, a rare glimpse of maternal breaking through her anding presence. “And both of you are expected at the diable tonight. Do not be te.”
Rava ined her head, the tension in her frame easing. “Uood, High Fang.”
Korriva’s eyes lingered on her daughter for a moment longer, a mix of pride and something unspoken fshing across her features. Then, with a slight gesture of dismissal, she turned her attention to the advisathered nearby, the weight of her authority shifting effortlessly to her ask.
Rava stepped back, motioning for Vivieo follow her. As they exited the hall, the heavy wooden doors closing behind them, the tension of the enter seemed to dissipate, leaving the two of them iive quiet.
"Well," Vivienne said, stretg her arms as though shaking off the lingeri of Korriva’s presehat weer than expected. She’s a formidable woman, but I like her. A refreshing mix of pooise."
Rava shot her a sidelong gnce, her expression a mix of amusement and exasperation.
SupernovaSymphony
