Vorrak's boots struck the stone floor with heavy, furious purpose as he turned left down the corridor.
His shoulders were tight, fists clenched so hard his claws scraped faintly against his palms. The air around him felt hot—like his anger alone could scorch the walls.
Esyra followed a step behind, her hands folded nervously in front of her. She hesitated, then hurried to keep pace.
The silence didn't last long.
"Why are you following me?" Vorrak suddenly barked, spinning halfway toward her. His voice thundered down the corridor.
Esyra flinched hard, shoulders jerking up as if struck. Her eyes widened, then dropped to the floor. "M-My room is this way too," She said softly. "You… you know that."
Vorrak stared at her for a second, teeth grinding. Then he turned away with a low, animal growl rumbling from his chest. "Tch."
He continued walking.
