The Heartwood my heart is like a stallion.

The man relaxed, and Andalusia let her lingering remnants of apprehension subside. Intercepting the business of others came with its risks, but the Ostrega liked to keep her eyes on the benefits. She'd found a decent meal and had gathered a chance to speak with one of the locals, the first she'd approached since entering the Wilds. The wolves in these parts proved tricky to come by, or maybe she'd been the elusive one. Given she'd lived the past weeks in a forest once ruled by a lynx, she felt inclined to believe the latter.

His humility came as a surprise to the woman, but she accepted his thanks with a nod of her golden head and a flickering grin. "Seems we've both had our fair share of luck for the day. Let this be a toast it continues." With that she rose, accepting his invitation but remaining in place. She would let the man take from the carcass first: he had been first to wander across the deer, after all, and the first to challenge the coyote for what it had claimed as its own. Abiding by the rules, the man had a right to first pickings - or seconds, given the state of the half-eaten game on the forest floor. With her right to a meal and conversation secured, she honed her curiosity on the dark stranger instead. "Since I'm sure we'll be here for a while, may I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"