Lost Creek Hollow Is a new philosophy

Well, it certainly wasn't like Arbiter was the sort to smile to begin with, that was for sure. A slight tilt of her head to his question initially. The wolf who had appeared was a yearling, if that. Young, that much was certain. There was enough of a difference between his grey pelt and Liffey's that she didn't associate anything between them -- she hadn't met any of the other siblings, or if Arbiter had, the player doesn't remember. Blame it on the fuzziness of time.

She didn't really want the frog, but she'd talk anyway, her voice perhaps seeming slightly mournful from the subject more than the tone, I used to live here. My children were born here. And now many of the faces are gone, but the world moves on, regardless. She shrugged a shoulder. It was the surface level summary -- she didn't go into the variety of betrayals that she'd suffered (or imagined to suffer) because there was no point in doing so. A sweeping glance across the once-familiar landscape before looking back to him, What brings you here? Out to seek his own future, perhaps?