Neverwinter Forest where silence comes

Ico was determined that if he'd taken some proper time to groom the scree and knots out of his fur and make himself presentable, he would talk himself out of taking this leap of faith. It had not been easy to put himself out there again; he had to just do it. No more waiting, no more excuses.

But as he saw a shape approach (and his heart leapt like a salmon up a waterfall), Ico resented his untidy appearance. All the more so when the stranger spoke.

He caught a glimpse of striking blue eyes before he glanced away respectfully, noting instead a distinguished white stripe that cascaded down from her throat.

I got caught in a landslide, he replied a little sheepishly.

Go on Ico, you can do it.

Erm, I'm — I'm called Ico. I'm a wanderer. Could you tell me the name of this packland?