What's the Plan, Stan?

Annwyn watched from a nearby thicket, her form barely visible against the stark winter landscape. Her light blue-gray fur blended seamlessly with the frost-kissed scrubland, making her appear almost ghostly. She knew well the perils of underestimating the land, and the importance of strategy and foresight. Annwyn moved closer to the group, her presence like a shadow passing over the frost. She took her place among them, her demeanor serious and her gaze unwavering. It was easy to remain silent, her gaze flitting over the group carefully.

As Talyssa spoke of the unforgiving nature of the land and the necessity of strategy, Annwyn's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of approval in her gaze. She knew that the lessons learned here would be invaluable, a crucible in which the weak would either be forged into something stronger or perish. It was a reminder that survival was not just about brute strength or quick reflexes, but also about cunning, foresight, and the ability to read the land and its hidden dangers. And Annwyn knew that the land would teach them well, but only if they were willing to listen and learn as her people did. More often than not however, they were deaf to its words.

the selfish