Neverwinter Forest dannsair sìthiche

Rustic foxfur drapes over a pelt of splendid ivory and pointed golden eyes that all but channel a demure warmth that has all but wrapped Reilly into an embracing hug. She practically preens—but maintains herself—her own eyes bright and inquisitive as they travel over the pair, excitement fluttering in her breast.

“Your forest—your home,” she offers the woman, a slender muzzle sweeping lower now in the primal act of acceptance ingrained within themselves. “I felt its pull—but I have traveled away from my home with the hope of gaining knowledge. To learn of so many others—to see what the spirits demand of me, and what my place might be.”

She had promised the man skills—she had spoken her desire to appease the fae—he remained uncertain if she was one who fit amongst them. When she looked upon them, she saw promise—the beginning of new.

It was this that now made her question the pull she spoke of—had she been wrong? This was why she must forage a new path—whatever wavering doubt that flickered through her mind was set upon endurance.