Bearclaw Valley Meet me inside

Orson was no stranger to absent-minded wandering — that had been the theme for most of her adult life. In her heart of hearts she wanted nothing more than to be a part of something — intrigue, drama, a war, even a polite conversation would be enough to quench her. In the heart of that hearts, there was something like loneliness. But delving that deep was too much for her. She stayed on the surface level — that is, bored out of her mind. 

Her heart (of hearts? or heart of heart of hearts? where was this metaphor going?) leapt when she saw the stone woman, quietly trotting along. She approached, only to find another male joining the fray. From the words she picked up and the way they approached each other, there was no familiarity between them. A meeting of acquaintances then? Orson picked up her step to meet up with the grayscale pair, keeping her body language friendly. A little gathering going on here?