Noctisardor Bypass yesteryear

*invades*

Fiona thought about her conversation with Druid when she heard voices up ahead. One was the very familiar sharp voice of Anselm. Likely barking orders at somebody at their border, greeting a passerby with the same "grace" he'd given her one fine day. Feeling generous and more sociable than she had in the last few weeks, she intruded upon them with no regard for whether or not it would be rude to do so. She was, after all, a member of Rivenwood, and she had every right to greet those who came to their borders.

Shouldn't what? she asked, picking up only Anselm's last words. She shot the stranger a friendly smile before returning her gaze to those sharp yellow eyes.