Phoenix Maplewood fragments of memory

Kolfinner. A foreign name. Strong, and suited to his stature. A wall stretched between them-- thin, yet unmistakable, lingering in the shadows of unfamiliarity. And though the brute's image didn't fall short of mighty, the woman did not cower. Within his words-- or rather, the silence between them-- there lay something...deeper. Shifting. Like ice beneath a current. Her gaze burned, as though she sought to see past the blade of crimson eyes. 
But she would not pry. For better or for worse.
Daughter, he said...
A hum rumbled in Siofra's throat, silken, airy. Separation from kin was a gnawing kind of haunt-- one she knew all too well. However, she couldn't say she knew of this yearling girl he spoke of. The lass flicked her tail, gesturing over a dark shoulder.
She would offer what she could. Even if it amounted to mere scraps to his ears. The northern chill spared no mercy for a siren, and less for a girl. There was little to be found here beyond wandering souls and the fading tracks of caribou.
"...You will not find her in these woods, nor the moraine, Blackfell." Siofra murmured, brows lifting. Another step was drawn forth, and a heavy silence descended upon her as thought took over. An offering was made:
"I am headed south. Should we cross paths, I could carry a message on your behalf."