Silver Creek ☁ θολό ☁

"Well, good morning, Daivya."

The forest sylph visibly jumped. Her skin prickled with dumbstruck surprise, a voice of the deepest notes shuddering into her ears, rippling down her spine. It was an unfamiliar, foreign concoction of the thunderous clouds during a brewing storm, and the powerful, god-like roar of a crashing wave. Primitive and dark; yet the words were sincere, unceremonious. Casual, perhaps.

His coat was of creamy white, a stripe of gold shimmering across his back, all the way to his tailbone - at first, Daivya believed it to be Harrison, one of Grayson's siblings she'd yet to meet. But from the barest glimpses of passing, she came to the conclusion that no, it was not. That only left... "...Dawson." She greeted, a salmon tongue sweeping over her lips, heart still thuddering behind the bones of her ribcage.

Her chin dipped politely, body righting itself into a position of respect - he was a man, and another Odolf, so she would oblige to the rules that had been engraved in her very soul. "It... my day has been going well, thank you. Y-yours, Κύριε?" Inwardly cringing, she cursed herself for the fluster spewing from her muzzle, silencing her own tongue and cautiously avoiding the deep shards of ice upon his features. There was no doubting his enrapturing appearance, something that seemed common among the men of rosings, particularly the Odolf crew. She couldn't be lured in... not until her body and mind were gifted to one in marriage.