Neverwinter Forest making the bed,

So the man was gallant and noble, how quaint. She could feel the weight of his claim in the very earth beneath her paws, as though he were woven into the land itself, a sentinel forged from the soil and stone of these woods.

With slow, deliberate grace, she stepped forward, slipping into the light to let it wash over her back. “Then consider me within bounds,” she replied, her voice a smooth purr, equal parts respect and defiance. “I have no quarrel with you or whoever exists within your ranks.”

Despite her casual tone, she was keenly aware of the latent strength in him, the quiet warning in his stance that dared her to test the boundaries he’d laid. It sparked something within her—a thrill that prickled along her spine, a kind of challenge she rarely encountered, and relished when she did. She had come here expecting little more than a glimpse of foreign lands, but he offered a far more interesting distraction.

Her gaze flickered, drawn to the horizon. “I don’t seek trouble. Just a place to rest, hm?” She let her words linger, a rare sincerity lacing through her tone. For all her.. audacity, the woman was useful. She could hunt and heal as well as any wolf, if not a bit better. Sólhárr's caution didn't dissuade her; it intrigued her. If he was to set boundaries, then so be it—she would walk them with care. And if there was a place for her here, she would carve it out herself, in her own way.