Moonspear princes who adore you

Kindle had not experienced vertigo, and in fact, did not recognize the word. But, being both proud and clever, he was accustomed to using context clues for such things. The context here was her reaction, paired with talk of an awful feeling. Kindle determined that vertigo was a shorter way of saying you felt someone walk over your grave.

"Once or twice," he admitted, if only because it would be awfully rude to let her think she was the only one to suffer from it. Then again, it'd never caused him to take such a funny turn.

Despite misunderstanding, he did rather suspect her of being afraid of heights. He judged her for it only because she’d been born on the mountain — as far as he was concerned, being afraid of heights was quite sensible. At any rate, he was pleased to be able to sit for a moment.

"'Course. The air's got teeth up here, don't it?" he said, settling down nearby — conveniently between Treepie and the ledge. "Feels like something's gnawing on my lungs."

He hated to admit to such a weakness, but sometimes discretion was not the better part of valor.

"I'll remember that next time it looks like you're about to fall off a cliff," he snipped, though his annoyance was mostly for show. "Woman." It did not roll off his tongue quite as naturally. It felt almost uncouth, in fact.