Larksong Grotto ☾ tléix'

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The moondancer did not turn away from the man in front of her. Allowed him to commit her scent to memory. Felt her cheeks grow warm in an albeit girlish manner at the closeness, whether it be from his presence, or rather, the loneliness she had found on her journey southwards. Something she had yet to know was shared between them. He moved, and she followed.
Pawsteps fell in pace with the man. Moving with a crystalline grace beside him. Though hunger plagued her body, she did not act as such. Where one may go rabid for sustenance, or aggressively protect their land, their kill, she acted much simpler. Peace radiated from her in waves. Still, she wore a placid smile. Shared closeness with her first friend of these lands. And it was then that she spoke again. Call-name? She said simply.
Snowangel looked to him for a moment. I am Dísal'eix̲. You call it, Moondancer, and it was now that she would look away, seemingly finished with her words, before the rest came in melodic tongue.
You call me... Dísa. Moon.