Larksong Grotto and walkin's what they'll do

A swift nod was given in reply to Oren's statement. This snow-caped man was only the second person she'd wandered into within these new lands. She wasn't quite yet prepared to make any enemies. Fond, then.

And he was right: she treasured her surname. It connected her to her family, and Isabella hoped that one day she would pass it along to a whelp of her own. Kosar, she hummed. Oren Kosar. I wouldn't say it's pitiful, no, we just come from different places. I'm sure yours was more than respectable. Bella's tone was reassuring, truthful.

Why would anyone lie about their last name? She laughed. Unless they had something truly pitiful... For a moment, the woman hummed, curious, thinking of what a "pitiful last name" would be. Like... ah... I don't know. Lend a paw? What's the worst surname you've ever heard. I must know, now. Her eyes shone with mischief, a smile plastered upon a pretty face.