Sleeping Dragon wildwood

He fixed her with a stare and for a moment she made eye-contact, an awkward silence settling between the two. She quickly shifted her gaze as if she were looking at a very interesting blade of grass, a quiet "....uh" escaping her lips. What the hell? She wasn't trying to become this pup's archnemisis, she just happened to be really, really, bad with pups. She knew he didn't understand that she was just trying to help him, and it seemed he didn't correlate his rash with the ivy. Well, maybe he did. She had no idea.

He opened his mouth as if to speak, and she leaned in a bit. The pup managed to utter a name, Portia. Lucia's mind drifted back to the freckled woman, who was quite pretty now that she thought about it. "Portia? I know her," she stated simply. Hopefully the fact that she knew Portia would make her seem less like the devil in Hvitserk's eyes. She assumed Portia was the good lady, and she was.... the bad lady.