Honeyed Pasture die Welt vor mir is' für mich gemacht

She barks a laugh, seemingly undisturbed by the woman's hostility. There is, truthfully, a prickle of unease at the back of her mind — but that's just her hard-earned sense of caution, a lingering habit born of a life spent on the run, and she knows she can ignore it for now. Valyri is safely tucked within the Bay, and this is only one woman. Been plenty o' folks who've tried, and found it a bit too full o' teeth for their tastes, She avoids answering the question; she's already explained herself, she feels, and has little patience for repeating things. Instead, she seeks control over the situation. High-strung, ain'tcha? Might be a good fight's what y'need — why don'tcha try me? No blood, no tricks — just a spar. A friendlier way for the woman to vent her apparent frustration, perhaps.