"Let them drift," Veylara replied, her already cold voice falling into that dark, melodic timbre that held the absolute authority of a predator at the peak of the mountain.
She drained her cup in a single swallow, setting it down with a firm, solid thud. "By the time anyone from the far south gathers the courage to cross the borders, our palisades will be fortified with stone, our storehouses will be bursting with tributary resources, and our spears will be too sharp to test."
She rose from the bone seat, her crimson leather tunic settling snugly around her waist as she stretched her lithe, powerful body.
The lingering fatigue from working all night was gone, burned away by the surging, pristine essence circulating through her newly widened channels.
"Where are you going?" Zephyra asked, tilting her head toward the footsteps heading for the side chamber.
