a polar what?

Rivin may have still been getting used to the whole working with her pack thing, but she was doing her damndest to take the chance that Gil had given her and thrive as a member of the Raiders. So when he mentioned that he needed a paw in taking back the beach, part of their old home, the red streaked fae was one of those who had volunteered. The swim had been frigid, the water chilling to the bone, but Rivin would not let that stop her from following the Raid King back to her old stomping grounds. The beach where she bonded with Jack… it was a sentimental place of good and bad memories. But she wanted it back. Good or bad, they were her memories to live with. And like herself, she was sure many of them had feelings regarding their old home.

Once on the shores she gave another shake of her coat. Her breath could be seen in white puffs, but she felt confident that they would take back what was rightfully theirs. Her gaze flicked over to Gil, a nod given to the man, before she looked back towards their home. It seemed just as they left it… until her gaze fell on the cavern they had once called home. From its depths appeared a lumbering white beast and Rivin snorted in disgust. The fuck was a polar bear doing this far south? The fur on her neck rose and her lips lifted in a snarl. “It chose the wrong fucking beach.” Despite not having her companions, Rivin wasn’t going to hold back. This time she drew her knife, a serrated blade that would worsen any wound she caused and make it harder for the bleeding to slow. This thing was going down.

Following Gil’s lead, Rivin charges into battle with the beast. She circles to its right, heading for the things shoulder where she makes a lunge to drive her dagger in. Time to do some damage. Was she doing the exact opposite of what Gil said? Of course. But she didn’t intend to linger close to it. A hit and run tactic to avoid any attacks the bear might attempt in retaliation.

"Speech," 'Thought.'