Qeya River fear the light, fear the breath

her uncle. 

she blinks once in surprise, too cautious to let her demeanor change outwardly. to suddenly say, my bad, ask anything you want might make her earlier rudeness obvious to even the most socially challenged. 

no apology would come, either. she would be accommodating moving forward, but she would not lower herself unless the matter was forced. 

have you always followed the caribou?