Shadewood quam beningna

The words meant to be an introduction spooked around in her head for a moment. Both name and place felt foreign to her ears, yet not ugly. They could've been curse words for all she knew, and still she liked them. The Malkaria? I'm sorry, I haven't heard of that place before. She said, assuming it was some sort of pack or land nearby. Next, she shook her head. I come from the Isle surrounded by rivers where, hopefully, the population of Arthendal will rule in the near future. She stood very proud by these words. After all that had happened to them, it was almost a sin to not be proud of their hard work.

She flinched as the stranger came closer, her tail just raising a bit at the sudden yet careful movement toward her. She knew the woman would most likely not attack, so instead she focused on the green, quite enchanting, orbs that were nestled into their sockets each.

She shook her head again. The closest picture of a God I have is Satan, but not even I who have been raised to praise him can really reach him. She answered carefully in a rather calm voice.