Mudminnow River revolvo

No, Sól answered briskly, pausing to sniff at a stretch of tall stalks topped by puffs of white flowers. She nosed among the flowers for a few moments, until she uncovered an old and cracked skull of some tiny creature she couldn't name. Weasel-like, she thought, rolling the skull under her paw before she lifted it and presented it to Germanicus in an idle look what I found fashion.
As quickly as she'd taken an interest, she dropped the skull and started to move on. You know Bjarna? She asked with a sideways glance to her companion. It made sense in her mind; Kvarsheim, to her, was Bjarna, and vice versa.