Sawtooth Spire a river turned to blood

Wintersbane turned his head to regard her quietly, and Nyx twitched a whisker as she quietly observed. She lowered her gaze out of respect for his title, unsure how he might react to her intrusive stare, though she dared to peek up into his handsome features once more as he greeted her with a low rumble.

At her beige hocks, the tip of her peppered tail curled. Wintersbane made no further move to approach or engage in conversation, so Nyx was content to dip her muzzle politely in response and carry on with her wanderings.