Boartusk Heights Barn owl

Qvasir straightened slightly at Agrippina's words, a faint inclination of his head confirming her statement. His amber eyes flickered between the gathered figures, observing the tension between the boy prince and the bold princesita. It was clear there was more at play here than the surface revealed, but he was nothing if not adaptable.

I am more than capable, he said with calm assurance, his voice steady and even. His gaze shifted to Nymphora, respectful but expectant. If it is your wish, princesa, I will carry you.

His tone carried no doubt, only quiet confidence in his abilities. Qvasir remained still, a steadying presence amidst the subtle undercurrents of tension swirling around the royals. He would wait for Nymphora’s command, prepared to serve her as she saw fit.