Sequoia Coast born into cruelty and crooked form

She seemed not to have liked that mention and Solpallur could not help but wonder why. It would come to him slowly and not long after she had drawn her own question to him; her tone was enough to impart what he needed to come to his conclusions. Perhaps this Rusalka was more secretive than he had previously thought, and their little herald unwise.

“This one,” he answered; it would be insufficient but he lacked the words to elaborate how she wanted him. His voice crackled to say something else and he struggled, trying to find the words in spite of better judgment to leave it plain. “This one… meet Rusalka, þarna uppi, á hálsinum,” he went on, gesturing inland and into the dark. Perhaps she would understand that.

“Do not fear,” he instructed then, watching her.