Dawnlark Plains why men great 'til they gotta be great?

He should have kept moving, and now was too late; the sterling woman had already turned in her course, already charted her way toward him, moving with a dignity that seemed less fitting of a stray, and more in line with the approach of a sovereign. Merrit turned his eyes from her, cheeks burning beneath his fur.

"Ah - no - I didn't intend - " - what was he thinking, staring down a stranger like that? And a woman, to boot? Get distracted by the clouds, fool -- and he hadn't been thinking -- at least, not in the ways he should have been. The skew of her voice suggested her roots lay somewhere other than the Wilds, a curiosity, but right now he could only focus on covering his slight against her. Merrit tipped his head in a shallow bow. "Forgive me of my rudeness, miss. I didn't intend to stare -- my thoughts were entirely elsewhere."