Overture Downs not my friend but i wont say no

neither, she says, with a hint of something like pride in her tone.

a small twitch at the edge of ulfric’s lip. "lucky you, then." not all are so fortunate. he is not. but the gods can always be crueler. his graying muzzle tightens, frustration slipping through—not at her, but at the memory of brightreach and all it left behind.
"a word of advice, bluejay," he mutters, voice low. "best to keep clear of those lands. leave them behind, quick as a fox’s trot. they offer nothing but deceit." though, looking at her, he can tell she already knows. maybe from his tone, the weight in his words.
bright, glass-blue eyes track the woman as she moves, stepping around him slow, measured—like a vulture circling something that hasn’t died yet. for a moment, he loses sight of her. his body shifts, following the way she walks.
curious one. asks without asking.
his tail hangs loose as he turns fully to face her again. something about her pulls, something quiet, something unsaid.
"had business. it’s done." short, clipped. noblemen are frantic when it comes to their secrets, and ulfric has no interest in speaking on matters that aren’t his to share.
then, a dry chuff. "shouldn’t a girl like you be off wandering the meadows, singing to birds, catching the eye of some brigand?"
his tone is laced with something close to humor, but sharp-edged, worn from sarcasm. he would not blame her if she took offense. wouldn’t be the first.
he exhales slow, a breath heavy from travel, turning white in the cold air. his short ears twitch, shifting only to follow the sound of her steps, her voice.