Neverwinter Forest And you provide a parachute when I am falling like a stone

It wasn't long before someone came sallying forth, his pelt immediately reminding Quellcrist of the time she had stumbled across a cracked stone and admired all the striations through its fractured core. And if that wasn't striking enough on its own, his eyes were two totally different colors. Dimly aware of Frolic's muscles squeezing her foreleg, Q openly stared at the stranger, forgetting that it was customary to drop one's gaze during such encounters.

She was about to open with a comment about his two-toned eyes when he spoke, naming the wood or the pack that called this place home, maybe both. "Um, I think you mean, 'actually, it's pretty damn winter,'" Q quipped without missing a beat, returning his smile with a grin of her own. "Name's Quellcrist Mayfair," she added, thrusting out an otter-clad foreleg as if for a handshake, noticing it, putting it back down on the ground and offering the other. "I'm currently trying to track some herds. Have you seen any hoofers 'round these parts?" One of the leaders back at Seabolt had dropped the word "ungulate" but hell if Quell was going to try to pronounce that.