Deepwood Weald Construct my summer home.

The word had rolled from his lips with ease without thought, that he failed to appreciate how outsiders would not understand. Dacio only took note of how the stranger struggled to understand when she simply stared back at him, confusion in the seaglass of her lovely eyes. The sterling guardian twitched an ear backward in acknowledgement, remaining expressionless as he parted his jaws to apologise in the common tongue.

Before he could, however, she piped up in another language and his turn came to be confused. "I don't understand you," he opted to say, and was content to cast their previous miscommunication aside: "who are you? What do you know of Moonspear?"