Totoka River cherry soul

Her senses, lately, had been honed to a razor edge. Or more truthfully: Moorhen was seriously neurotic, lately. So she didn't miss the arrival of the stranger, nor the friendly wag of his tail. The Cairn girl took in everything she could from this distance, eyes narrowed in distrust.

"Elven er fyrir alla," she said flatly, point her nose at the water in a gesture that was half welcome, half command, and all grump. Her ears twisted back as she realized what she'd said. "River," she corrected herself, likely too low for the male to hear. And then in a more carrying voice, "You are... um. Drink?"