Hoshor Plains I have no time for confession

The younger woman gestured to a mountain in the distance, Pala acknowledging it with a tilt of her head. She was rather curious herself now; the vale had never given much opportunity to see what lay outside of their home. The surrounding mountains did a good job of shielding them from it.

She allows the silence to settle for a short moment before speaking, as though pondering. I come from a vale not far inside of the mountains. We call it Montagne de Cigue. Her pronounciation is admittedly less elegant than Viskani or her sons; Pala had difficulty hitting the correct accents. She hoped to learn sooner or later, particularly now that her children were to be born to Chaudry. He would surely teach them his mother tongue. I am Pala, a Gurrier. She clicked her tongue, quick to correct herself. Or I will be, when my children wean.

It would be strange to call herself anything else, however. Pleine sounded far less interesting, did it not?