the lanzadoii chieftain’s grin is heavy in his chest, and the words that follow stink of pride dressed as generosity. it is disgusting, deplorable, arrogant—
this man speaks as if he is some prize, and that earns the agitated gleaning of two smoldering emerald eyes. as if this long-legged, dark-furred man is any more suited to lay with the women of the sharadoii band than the mutts who followed them.
clay disliked all of them! this chieftain, the ignorant beast who stalked his sister, and the brown one.
clay looks down to cloud lash, and then separates himself from her. interjecting himself pointedly witj a chin tilting high, allowing himself once to rise to his matured height. he is willowy, brazen with hunter’s muscle where ashen pelt pulls taut across him.
you should be lucky if any sharadoii woman wastes breath upon you,
clay says.
or your warriors.and he should take the tongue from his throat for speaking words he had not been born to!