Neverwinter Forest Lost

The voice stirred from behind her. Deep and bellowing. She felt a quiver in her bones. Doe-long legs trembled by both the winds and suddenness of his voice. 

She turns slow to face the man connected to the voice. He lingers among the treeline, at the gateway of the forest. He is its guardian, she is certain. Yet not a spirit, she could tell. Very much alive, his warmth of auburn thick pelt radiating off of him. A great bear of a man, who looked to have lost an eye by perhaps fighting a bear, even. 

You are correct. She nods, her flaxen gaze fluttering around them. The weavers of destiny have taken me far... She takes in a deep breath, chilled air filling her lungs. And now they grow silent when I am lost. A soft chuckle. One at her own expense, really. Where did she go from here? Now that all she had known and loved was gone? 

The north made me. The rock, the ice, the pine... She turns back to him now. He looked nothing less the the men she had been used to back home. Large, worn, rugged and a gaze hardened by war and grief. I fear I've no where to go, particularly. She wanted to be among those who were like her. Ones who grew up with the same customs, the worship of the same gods. Her people now were dead and gone, as so by the will of fate, yet there were others out there, surely, even so far from all which she had ever known. 

She would find a place, a people, to call her own again. This she was certain.