Boartusk Heights for the findings,

Qvasir heard the voice before he saw the figure, perched high above like a spirit come to life. Her words struck like playful arrows, laced with amusement. His ears flicked forward, sharp and curious, as his golden eyes followed her voice to its source.

Ah, he hummed, a low and even sound, his head tilting slightly as he regarded her. Fox-like and petite, her sharp features matched her tone, and he found himself intrigued by her confidence. She was bold, like the fire-tongued women he had known in his youth.

Paloma, supongo, he began, his voice a measured rumble, warm yet deliberate. Qvasir. His gaze lingered on her as he introduced himself, the faintest trace of a smile curling his lips. Tienes razón, soy grande... pero veo que tú eres rápida.

He stood firm below her perch, waiting for her to make the next move, his presence as steady and unmoving as the rocks beneath their paws. The air around him carried no tension, only a quiet curiosity to see what the fox-like woman might say next.