Neverwinter Forest skies and thrones and wings and poetry and things

His answer neither denied nor confirmed her question, but there was no disputing that what he spoke of, she could see. The presence he carried was an authoritative one. I can see why, she responded without shame. Hydra could appreciate what stood before her, and it looked to be a strong man that she would rather not quarrel with. Even now, fit, well-fed, and healthy, he looked difficult to take down. But Hydra could not deny she wanted to try—not in a fight where they sought blood, of course. Something to warm their bones, as falls chill was erring toward one that felt more like winters cutting knife; it could wedge its way into the marrow of any creature in the wilds.

Hydra cocked her head. I don't see it fit, per se, but I'd like to, the girl lowered herself into a play-bow, quirking her brows at him before she rose, her tail waving in a friendly, inviting manner: what do you say?