Neverwinter Forest lunara

Hackles of platinum silver bristled sharply when a voice, unfamiliar in it's masculine tenor reached out in the space between them and graced her ears which had perked forward and then slicked back upon the valkyrja queen's skull. Hastily she turned so she faced the other, dappled in light silvers with dusting of darker colors, not quite unlike herself. Toes of dark gray dug into the pliable earth beneath her paws, a look of warning sent the male's way. After her altercation with the Jarl's greedy and self-entitled sons the Queen was wary of the opposite sex, though fully prepared to do what she needed to protect herself. She was not above maiming and certainly not above killing, if it came to it. She was no shield-maiden, it was true, for such a thing appalled her mother despite that even Frejya herself had been a warrior queen. The goddess of fertility, however, had not, and it was her beauty that Brynhildr had been likened to by many interested suitors, half of which had been over half her age. The beauty of a queen not intended to be a warrior. The stranger's greeting seemed friendly enough to Brynhildr and after a few seconds, when it did not become apparent his intentions were ill, the valkyrja relaxed her stance though it was only a slight and subtle movement.

“Hello,” She returned simply, studying him with mutely, observing and assessing him for a few moments. After her returned greeting the young queen fell to silence, figuring if he looked to further the conversation then he could take the initiative.