The Thought that Counts

Annwyn observed from the shadows, her presence blending seamlessly with the mist that clung to the forest's edge. She listened to Talyssa's words with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism.

When the golden-furred leader mentioned intuition, a sardonic smile played on Annwyn's lips. Intuition, she mused, was both a blessing and a curse, a double-edged sword that had guided her through countless perils and into unfathomable darkness. Her bright blue eyes, marked by the striking heterochromia in her left, fixed on Talyssa as she spoke.

Emerging from her concealment, Annwyn approached the group with a graceful yet commanding presence. The chains that adorned her body jingled softly, an almost eerie melody accompanying her steps. The scent of woodsmoke and blood followed her as she joined the gathering. Her piercing gaze swept over the group, silently challenging those who dared meet it. She offered no words.

the selfish