Neverwinter Forest there's no crowds in the street,

tired of doing the hover code !!!!

íruna watches him, the flicker of humor in his tone catching her ear. her expression, usually steadfast and unreadable, softens just enough to reveal a faint curve of her lips—a shadow of a smile. she wonders at his humor, his lightness, and for a moment, it is almost refreshing—a break from the weight that constantly presses down on her shoulders. “i would hope not,” she says with a teasing hum, moving to walk past the great man, casting him a beckoning glance over the shoulder. “our hárkonungr would not take kindly to a sögumaðr who falters.” another tease upon the tongue.

yet when his words turn to the union of sólhárr and callyope, a subtle tension flickers across her features. so he does not know. or, if he does, he gives no hint that he does. she twists upon her paws to face the man once more, only now she is once more several paces away, looking upon him with curious eyes. “i am aware of their intentions,” her voice is quiet now, as if lost in thought. she shakes her head and readjusts her look upon the large man. she hesitates.

“and you, rökkur? do you pray to máni for your own future?”