Neverwinter Forest when the curtains call the time

íruna raises a brow, her lavender eyes flicking up from the wound to meet pangur’s gaze. the faintest hint of a smirk tugs at her lips, a rare and fleeting expression, as she listens to the other woman’s musings.

pangur’s pride draws a faint chuckle from írúna, low and quiet in her throat. if the mountain cat is still alive, i’d wager he’s not so keen on your thanks, she remarks, her ears twitching slightly.

she leans back slightly, brushing the frost off her paws as she straightens. her gaze lingers briefly on pangur’s leg before lifting again, sharp and assessing. it’s good you can laugh about it now. but perhaps wait until you’re fully healed before tempting another fight. scars are one thing, but a matching set might not mend as well. her smirk deepens, and though her words carry a cautionary note, there’s a glimmer of shared amusement in her tone.