Totoka River dearheart

deirdre was relieved to hear of the others forgiveness. and then she spoke again of the crab, and smiled. they walk differently than any creature i have met, yet. but those that linger in the ocean are strange--wonderfully so, she thought, fondly, of skellige. he was not so strange, but truly he was different than anything she had ever known.

she laughed at the others words, the sound joyful and heartfelt. that is so sweet! it is just a voice like any other, this was what she thought, though it did have a unique lilt to it, vaguely scottish as her fathers had been. it was only just, and it could be noted on few words. it came, in these first few words: i am deirdre stella mayfair, of donnelaith. and you are?  she spoke the Old Tongue in a dialect that suggested she was borne of the glen; she learnt it from a man who had been.

alright, she agreed, nodding her head. the witch held her breath for a beat. what sort of question might she ask? in what way? are these questions... are they open ended? or must they be closed questions--answered in but one word? yes, no, perhaps.