Kildeer Rest propaganda you should fall for

She moved like an elk-mother, returning to the fawn in which she hid within thickets. Thin, though plush with a thick, wintery pelt. And so he found himself curious of her—curious of this woman, ever so clearly opposite of the outlaw that stood just a few ways before her. She revealed herself as not being from here, and now it was not only her scent, but the way in which her voice danced towards him that reminded him so clearly of Sega.
Passin' through, he echoed back to her. Ya got a name, stranger? Carrying himself a few steps closer, though, still, mindful, respectful of the space in which she ought to be granted. Bowed his head a little lower, as to not be imposing. For though he was a brute of muscle and density, he was not completely brainless—however often his attempts at appearing friendly were rather taken as condescending, instead. Still, he would try regardless, for there was something of her that he found himself looking to investigate.
Something so... familiar.