Neverwinter Forest In the Woods Somewhere

sólhárr tilted his head, studying the young lad with interest. there was something both unusual and familiar about him—the mixed scent, the fine herbs he had gathered for a nest. moss seemed prepared to leave, a thin nervousness woven into their frame as they spoke. yet, sólhárr saw no need to chase them off, especially if they had come to rest, perhaps to seek solace or safety. he raised a brow, his gaze lingering on the carefully chosen herbs that surrounded them.

moss, he echoed, letting the name settle between them as he took in the thin, careful way they held themselves. no need to flee so quickly, he continued, voice steady, with an edge of curiosity. you’ve an interesting choice of bedding, he observed, nodding toward the fine herbs tucked around their nest. these are not the plants of a wanderer alone.

his gaze sharpened, both assessing and intrigued, as he asked, do you know about plants, moss? it was less a question of skill than an invitation to share knowledge, a way to understand the strange, cautious creature that had wandered into forneskja’s borders.