Deepwood Weald keeper

Rhaena had been too focused on her meal to notice she was being watched. She tore into it with urgency, as if expecting it to be snatched away at any moment. Only when the heavy thud of paws neared did she freeze, periwinkle gaze snapping up, her grip instinctively tightening around her prize. It wasn’t much, but she had caught it; she would not let it go so easily.
A large figure loomed before her, draped in coal and wood, his brow heavy, his dark brown eyes unreadable. A man built of iron and shadow. The man spoke, his voice deep, the words foreign to her ears. And yet… not unfamiliar. Her mother would have understood.
She kept his gaze, cautious but unafraid, curiosity flickering beneath her guarded posture. „Are you hungry?” she asked at last, the words slipping out before she could think better of them, though she kept her meal clutched close.
Something about his voice tugged at her memory, and her thoughts raced. Then, it struck her. The shadow girl had heard this before; or something close to it. Excitement surged through her. With a sudden stomp of her paw, she straightened, eyes wide with realization.
„Wait!” she blurted, practically vibrating with energy. „Hjálpaðu mér! I think this means hello, yes?” She wasn’t sure if he would understand, wasn’t even certain the word truly meant what she thought; but she had heard the adults say it often though. And that was enough to make her try.