Moonspear Like a toreador

Her tufted ears lifted to catch the lilt of his voice, low and heavy and rolling like hills covered in heather. She looked up toward the mountain's peak at the mention of its name, lips parting in awe. She couldn't help but wonder if the moon looked any bigger from the summit as it passed over in the night. The question left a shimmering in her eyes, which turned back to take in the oceanic blue eyes of the- well, he hadn't given her a title, but she felt certain he was a leader. 

"Am l-looking for home," She said, her high sweet voice like a larksong. "Am Simbelmyne...Em, Myna, if, preferred." She said, with a friendly smile that made her eyes squint.