Neverwinter Forest Silent Night

She had caught the hybrid's attention, claiming it away from the raccoon he had been previously sparring with. His head withdrew from the hollowed log, thin scratches across the black leather of his nose. Absently, Gyda considered that she could probably scrounge up something for the pain it no doubt caused him and keep it from getting infected. Before she'd left with Nerian she had taken a particular interest in ritualistic plants and medicines — though one she had to see Ragnar for and the other she had to glean Thistle's knowledge for. Since her first departure from Stavanger Bay, however, she had not pursued it further. Her focus had been on her fighting and leading skills, strictly. He did not speak instead letting out a strange rattling sort of bark. Gyda understood well enough what he meant: he was admitting that he did, indeed, need her aid.

For a moment she was unsure of just how she could have any further luck getting it out than he did. She drew nearer, elegant and pretty plains of her face set in contemplation, her steps slow and calculated. Her neck craned ever so slightly to see if the log was hollow the entire way through. If it was, she could sneak up on the behind and force it towards his waiting grasp. “We give it no option of escape,” She began to speak her plan aloud to him. “I will come at it from the other side and force it towards you and when it is close enough you make your move.” One of them was bound to get it, at least. She looked at him once, naturally expecting her plan to be followed before he lowered to her belly and crawled into the spacious opening opposite of the hybrid.