Dragoncrest Cliffs if you keep screaming your name, it forces the assailant to acknowledge you as human.

She found herself nodding along with Artaax despite herself, ”Yes, I... I suppose there is something out there that one can master,” but it was with a dubious thinning of her lips. It really depended what the task or trade was, but she knew that even the most dull of them had their merits.

Then, feeling some flush borne out of that same sickness from before, she gave a bit of a stamp as she held herself as a halt once more. The gesture was more towards the stubbornness of her own body, and the indecisiveness of its own inner swings. Giving a weary sigh, ”So. Has there been a time where you had to go on an... expedition, of sorts, tracking a particular bird? Or flock, I suppose?”

Once more, she trailed after him again, ears curving towards whatever knowledge he had to give her; whatever else he had to say on birds, despite her intermittent wavering pace that they walked with. As a lagging afterthought, she wondered aloud, ”Have you traveled much, I mean?”