Greatwater Lake there with my crooked teeth

The words of the soft-spoken nymph pulled Dulce in closer, coaxing her down onto her hindquarters. She stared unabashedly, unashamed by her own interest, and thought about her coming reply. Up there, she said, head twisting to motion northward. It was strange, Dulce thought, the comfort that she felt sitting open before a stranger. She wondered if the nymph used her unique charm as magic to draw out the secrets of her prey. 

Probably not, though. It was more likely that Dulce just thought the stranger was pretty. Where did you come from? she then asked, breaking the straight line of her gaze and replacing her flat expression with a smile. Act natural, weirdo.