Totoka River you requested it, so we rewind

Although she would never be a particularly welcoming presence to strangers, Moorhen had come a long way from her violent and prickly beginnings. The approach of another was noted, but until he proved himself a nuissance, she was content to let him go about his business unaccosted. She was confident in her own abilities, and intent on her bath either way.

But the man took an interest in her, and so Moorhen paused her ministrations to stare balefully back at him. "Það mun gróa fyrir brúðkaupið," she replied, employing a phrase she had oft heard Fen use in relation to various injuries. If it wouldn't kill, it would eventually heal. She was not concerned about a little blood and scarring.

"Ha!" she exclaimed when she realized he'd spoken in the tongue she knew so well. "Þú ert maður frá norðurlandi!" She was already shaking out her pelt and striding toward him, body language friendly and seeking. "Ég hef ekki hitt annað í mörgum tunglum."

She felt so light and free and graceful to be speaking the Northern tongue once more; the lilting words came to her far more easily than the language spoken in these lands.