Permafrost Hollows you cannot swallow a life that large

While the low baritones rumbled through the air, the siren found herself watching his expression, eager to see what the tundrian would make of her words - it was not of the direst importance, but she had come to realise how cut off she had been from the rest of the world while wrapped in the sea's royal embrace; so little contact she'd had with others. Even her interactions with others of the Undersea crew had been scarce, few and far between - so she managed to snare herself in the trap of watching him speak, rather than fully listening, tracing the movements of his lips.

Mention of blackfeather woods had her wispy ears perk upon a blue-tinged crown, snapping from her thoughts, but she made no comment of it; her own knowledge of the shadowed group was close to nothing. Only the name was vaguely distinguishable, perhaps from passing talk when she still resided on the mainland. Before Undersea, so long ago. 

"That's good, then," the tuneful hum of consideration, slipping out as a gust of wind shuddered through the treeline - branches rattled, but she ceased to watch them. "Who else is here already?"