[Realm: Álfheimr]
[Location: Quadling Country]
"Hm," Puck said, almost conversationally, though her eyes remained fixed on the sky, "I suppose this is her way of letting you know she's aware of what you did."
The golden-white javelin tore through the air toward them, its brilliance washing the valley in harsh light. Shadows vanished beneath it. The hills, the trees, even the dust at their feet were swallowed in its glow.
Grimm did not move aside despite that.
"That was quick," he observed calmly. "It would seem she has eyes within her borders."
"Of course she does," Puck replied, her tone sharpening slightly. "I told you she isn't a witch to underestimate. You caused trouble in her territory. You were always going to get a response."
The javelin grew larger—no longer a distant streak, but a spear of condensed light, throbbing with intense force.
Grimm lifted one heavy, black-gauntleted hand.
"There is nothing particularly impressive about this," he said evenly.
