Whitefish River keep your head up

Saarthal replies with a breeziness Varinril wished she possessed. She elaborated in a clunky design but it was admirable, in a way. It felt true whereas she spent too much time overanalyzing everything. Damn her overthinking brain. When her companion said she wanted to shed some light on a girl with "really pretty eyes," Varinril chuckles. That could be anyone in their group, really!

"The feeling's mutual, Saarthal." They would not amount to much if they remained aliens to one another. Plus, Varinril craved that cohesiveness, that togetherness one sees in very close packs. She hopes the others felt the same.

Saarthal's question gives her pause. Their group was growing. Their numbers have been on the up and up since Saarthal joined them. She's seen some unfamiliar faces dancing about the plateau though she has yet to interact with them directly. Lots of (cute) girls. As for the prospect of "anyone special," she becomes reflective.

"There was an...altercation while we were crossing the mountains," she admitted. "I came across an aggressive guy. There's no way I could have taken him myself, but Mallaidh made him retreat. Bloodied him without getting a scratch on her." Varinril's tone was one of hushed reverence. More so to cover up the fact that a lot more happened at the time. She was not willing to disclose that information just yet. The event had left her feeling raw and she has not completely recovered. Hopefully, Saarthal can look past her retelling of those events. No doubt Varinril will tell her what really happened, someday.

"Would you say...that Mallaidh's actions qualify her as someone special?"