Two Rivers Isle why men great until they have to be great

Eyes skimming the land before her, she inhaled sharply—revelling, perhaps, in the sudden wave of freedom she felt now that the looming shadows of the mountains were behind her for now. It was then bright emerald eyes fell upon the rogue. Her eyes roved over him gently, considering the small smile flashed her way before his own gaze shifted quickly away—as if she were a delicate butterfly, not meant to startle and flutter away.

Amusement curled about her lips at that moment, and the exotic woman took a confident step forward, her crafted muzzle tipping loftily to the side as she allowed her own posture to emanate her welcome of his presence—should he at least play by the rules of cordial niceties. “I hope I’m not intruding on your land,” she murmured, the smoky dulcet of her tone unused for days now. “I’ve grown rather fond of it here.”