Hoshor Plains grinning

For reference, I imagine her name sounding sort of like EIGH-shul-feer but the way she speaks it so quickly, it'd probably sound more EIGH-shl-frr.

Merrick. Not a name she'd ever heard before, which earned him a shred of mercy, and while it sounded like it should've belinged to a jovial, foolish wolf, she let that slide. Those were just her thoughts, after all. She gave him a nod, and a half-smile crept onto her lips. "Æsilfír." Her name was more breath than consonance. She wondered if he'd try to mimic her accent. She rolled her shoulder dismissively. "Most just coll me Ash 'coz they cannae prenouncet. S'foine." Clearly, it wasn't quite fine but it was something she had to get used to. 

His question caused quite a reaction. Dramatically, she drew her head back, nose wrinkling in distaste. "Cavorting? That wot ye thought that woz? Or that wot ye thoughtche'd get? G'wan witche!" Scolded the haughty girl. "I'm nae hoor, Merrick. Djer Mam nayver teachyer te be p'light er wha? Sakes," She sighed, but with a slight laugh. What an odd duck.