Boartusk Heights Barn owl

qvasir heard her call and wasted no time. his approach was unhurried but deliberate, paws light against the earth as he emerged from the shadows with his usual quiet grace. his amber eyes flicked briefly to agrippina, then shifted to the young princess she had so reverently addressed.

without a word, he came to a halt before the girl, assuming she was royalty, lowering his head in a deep bow. it was a gesture of respect, one rooted in the reverence demanded by her station, yet there was no hesitation in his movement, no artifice in his demeanor. his silence lingered for a moment, allowing the weight of his presence to speak before his words did.

princesa, he murmured, his voice low and steady, the honor is mine. his gaze, steady and measured, lifted briefly, though he remained slightly bowed. he waited, as patient as the earth itself, for whatever command or decree might follow.