Neverwinter Forest All that we are and all that we have ever been

Pangur was bold indeed! Because Pangur could not die. Everything always worked out for her, the gods willed it so, their faithful wanderer, voice of their voices, tethered and bathed in their love. Even here, where she felt far from it all. She kept them close, they were family, after all, and Pangur loved her family so dearly, even when all that was left of it was a talisman from  móður, tangled into the fur of a golden nape, stuck with sap; carved faithfully into it, a rune: wunjo. She remembered the scraping of nails through soft wood as it had been made for her.

Ah, she knew the way of the world, nothing was free and Pangur did not mind one bit! To trade, to connect and explore, this was the world she wanted, the world she loved. Pangur is no fighter, but I can sing! I have stories, I can hunt, yes.. I can also aid with childbirth, and weave pretty decor... 

She lists her skills with hum, pausing to lick at the maimed limb before returning her gaze back to his own, giving a smile and a nod of her head. For your aid, it is only fair, I will give many efforts. I can teach, and I can learn.