Frustration reigned. What had she wound up with, stuck here in this land with a name who forced a women to you know, give him a freaking child if she wanted to go and be happy with the one who she actually wanted to do be with. No wham, no bam, just a bunch of dodgy events that made her realise she wouldn’t be staying here come the season’s end.

Even if he decided to rescind it, claiming her or not, Leyra would just talk inane nonsense until she got what she wanted.

With this feeling, she ran. She’d run for a while, until her flanks were heaving but the edge was taken off. She would find a way to survive, as she always had and did. With her nostrils wide and feeling fatigued, she heard the note sung by the other before they approached. Their first words were an interesting choice, but also lucky she was no longer feeling snappy.

There was a name, but Leyra snorts.

“I wouldn’t call it red. Just wondering what in the heck I’ve gotten myself into by coming here,” she says with an overly exaggerated exasperated expression.

Try saying that three times as fast.

“Male stupidity and petty vendettas, that’s what. Oh, and casually forcing a woman to carry his child,” she says offhandedly. “Being treated like property. All that kind of thing. Unable to see the path ahead because hes too obsessed with whats behind him,” she snaps, though definitely not at Glory.

Her blue eyes look back to her.


“Leyra is me. Why so curious about little ole me, hmm?” She inquires.