Neverwinter Forest beatus ventus

she is ladened with dirt, specks of soil and muck dotted across her face and forelegs as she tilled the hard earth beneath her paws. the ground is chilled with a winter's frost, making the excavating of her half-formed garden a morning chore. 

but she is singing in the work of it all, songbirds joining to chirp pleasant tunes as she continued to cultivate the soil. slowly, as morning turned to noon, the beginnings of a plot began to take shape. 

roots slow her labor, and it is on one that she snares a claw. a startled, "oh," escapes her as she lifts a foreleg to investigate her newfound hangnail.

Mountain daughter sauntered up to the newcomer, not having known she existed before. Ayeee, she wuffed a greeting between a fat hare's limp body in her jaws. New 'ere too, eh? Whatcha name? friendly was exhausting for someone who was used to the harshness of her family still. 

Her eyes were curious. So many wolves, so many different faces to memorize. It was a challenge, for sure, but what was one more to add to the list?

sorry is short, am tired

she'd been persistently gnawing at the broken nail when the greeting caught her off guard. the nail, now dangling from the corner of her toe, would take no more than a single tug to come free. but velia, not wishing to appear barbaric, resisted the urge. 

instead she turned upon her new company and sought to answer the question asked of her. "am velia," she introduced with a widespread smile, looking expectantly then for the greyscale woman to do the same as she wondered if perhaps the water here made all of the locals grow so large.