Cerulean Cape Been broken down

The female turned, her hard, icy stare screaming hostility, ears pinned back in displeasure. Finnur did not shy from her anger, meeting it with a relaxed posture of his own as he waited for her to speak, observing whatever course of action she would choose. Would she attack and vent the storm ranging within her on his flesh? Or tell him what bothered her so?

She did not attack but offered no answer either, her words dismissive, and moved away from him. He should take the hint and leave her to her thoughts, yet instead he trailed after her. "I've been told I'm nosey." And reckless perhaps. Following her might be the equivalent of poking a bear.

Still, he dropped the matter and did not push her to answer. As she had said, it wasn't his business and he wouldn't continue to pry when told not to. But what sort of gentlemen would leave a woman to deal with her troubles alone? The least he could do was offer her company—if she would have it. "Hey, do you know how big that lake is?"