Deepwood Weald stacks of paper

She was at a loss for words now, her greeting spoken -- she was not sure if this was a place for introductions of for questions. He had not fled, perhaps a good sign. Andromaque shifted where she stood, a hint of nervousness entering her, a spark of dim flame within caged heart. "Do you call this place home?" The words flow after strained moments of hesitation, the only thing she could think to say while the silence that had fallen between them roared within her skull. She needed to learn the area better, if he was native to it that would be helpful to her. And his response had been kind, not indicative of him wanting her to leave. She remained hopeful.