The Heartwood so she walked away, devastation in her world

As if conjured by her addled thoughts, he materializes. 

He comes with the sound of a bear: thick, heavy footfalls thudding against the frozen earth. The Druid jumps to a halt, drawing back half a step with wide eyes. It doesn't quite seem possible for one man to be so large - the male before her is not quite tall but rather, bulky with muscle. 

It's not just the Commoner's build that distracts her but his coat; such a coat as his, she'd never seen - not even on her piebald dam and aunt. A patchwork of blacks, greys, and whites, the colors of truths, painted him; splotched and splattered like an abstract masterpiece. 

She might have almost mistaken him for a creature of the wood, if not for his eyes. Equally captivating, and mismatched much like her own, the mirth they held could not have been anything but evidence of sentient life.

Dwyn's feathered ears twitched at the string of words, brow rumpling in frustration as she processed through them - ears ringing as if she'd never before heard language.
With a thick swallow that tugged at the scars crisscrossing her throat, the halfbreed attempted to reply. 

"Hi," the northron nymph managed to lilt softly, going so far as to let the curly tail waving above her hocks wag welcomingly. 

She found she could not quite meet his gaze, scenting the cologne of pack upon his flesh. Some part of her was terrified by the notion of his being a possible paladin, ranging outwards in search of resources: food, land, women. Such was the way of Primul, the only way she knew. 

Yet, there was a natural exuberance about the man, something about him that put others at ease. Even the Ovate was relaxed, or as relaxed as she could be - slightly lowered on her haunches in deference, head ducked demurely as instinct dictated. 

Such was the cause for her alias to fall from rose petal lips with the gentle scrape of tree branches caught in a spring shower. 

"Dwyn." Her silver streaked chin bobbed briefly, towards her own chest as if to introduce herself, before her gaze shyly lifted to his chest - whetting her lips anxiously; it would not dare rise higher. 

"You?"