Neverwinter Forest Lidet er om den mans vrede, som ingen vurder

The woman faced her senior with a dipped head and airplaned ears, eyes seeing his chest and not his one sunlit eye. Her form large and covered in the shaggy, warm fur of a mountain-dweller, but not the bulk of one yet. Whatever quippy remark she'd had on her tongue vanished, and she felt intimidated by the man's imposing presence. He'd seen some things, that was for sure -- and for once the heiress of mountains and storms had her steadfast paws shake, however still she might have appeared. 

do you seek company, or a cause?

And man, could this guy give her words to chew on like a white-tail's antler. Talk less, smile more, honest and not oversharing to strangers. Her answer was thus extremely simple, her accent thick.

B'th.