Neverwinter Forest You can come and go and still be here

The snow has her in a terrible mood, though one would never guess by looking at her; the kind of god-awful mood that makes everything you say sound annoyed, and all the doors you close seem to slam no matter how gentle you try to be. Not a great place to be for quickly gathering what undamaged herbs she can find, but that's where she's at. She has it mostly under control, except...
A sigh bursts from her as she pulls too hard for what feels like the dozenth time now, shredding the plant she'd been trying to collect. She takes a step back, breathing deeply as it falls to the ground. Worthless. Thankfully, Mal interrupts her frustration, and she takes the opportunity to latch onto the distraction, feeling a little relieved.
Mal, She greets as she turns to him, voice weary but otherwise collected. She almost responds in her usual manner, the way everyone expects regardless of how things are actually going; it's good, I'm good, how are things for you? It'd probably be polite. But Aibreann has always valued honesty over politeness, and if Mal is going to father her children, she doesn't want to be stuck in polite formality with him forever. Not well today. She admits, glancing briefly at her ruined pile of plant. The snow is... inconvenient. I've been a bit too stressed about it.