Gyrfalcon's Keep Hello there sir….

though prickly as he is rusalka would argue that he was no sir and certainly not good, he does not.

this was no time and no place to be argumentative.

she apologizes for straying too close and states that she has no ill intentions. he scrutinizes her beneath his unyielding gaze, finding that her facial features and submissive posturing of her head tell her words to be true.

still, the cerberus nature of rusalka is not entirely appeased by her words alone.

did someone not give you a tour? he asks gruffly. they should've and they should've mentioned the temple. if not as warning to not disrupt it ... or it's inhabitants while in prayer. it was true the temple was empty for the time being and his own shift guarding it was dismissed for this purpose ... but he lingers.

he may not believe in the old gods of the high priestess but that did not mean he did not take his duty seriously.

but ... there was no sense in talking in circles. he had spoken and she had been made aware of the path her straying paws took her.

i am rusalka. vorðr, he repeats the title given to him, the word sounding strange on his tongue; not used to speaking it. guardian of this holy place.