Overture Downs not my friend but i wont say no

Bluejay. The moniker struck her as strange, to be coined something much softer than herself. She supposed her appearance made up for it. Catching  her tongue between her teeth, Gjalla sucked in a breath as a gust of wind was thrust into her face. As she circled him, she noted the way his body shifted, eyes trailing her form without hesitation. "How polite of you." The princess retorted. There was no fear in him, only watchfulness. It was a shared thing—mutual curiosity wrapped in the guise of something predatory.

The princess lets out a noncommittal hum in response. The sarcasm that followed earned him a quiet huff of a laugh, the sound escaping her before she could stifle it. “I’d like to think I’ve got a better reputation than that.” she scoffed, half amuse, half derisive, voice dripping with incredulity.

She had been prepared to leave, to let this stranger be a passing figure in the haze, but now she found herself hesitating, curiosity piqued by the tired weight in his voice and the lines etched into his frame. At last, she loosened the breath in full, a plume of frost swirling from her lips. Shifted her weight, her claws curling into the frozen earth as if to ground herself, her eyes cutting back to Ulfric with renewed sharpness. “Shouldn't you be sulking off to your den for hibernation, beast?” she added, her tone evening out.

Angling her head, the woman swept her gaze over him once more, “or are you the brigand I'm expected to catch the eye of?”