Arrow Lake henneth annûn

The reaction of the terrain to her voice was subtle, but her attention remained fixed on the dense mass of muscle and dark fur before her. A graceful rise followed, her body unfolding with fluid precision as she closed the distance between them. Each step upon the snow was calculated, the crunch of the frost under her pads the only disturbance in the silent air. The previous vulgarity still hung in her mind, a crude interruption of the conversation that signaled a profound lack of decorum. It was a concerning indication of the quality of these lands.
Amber eyes moved from his heavy paws to the broad set of his shoulders, cataloging his physical presence with clinical detachment. „My understanding of the world is not a matter of chance, but of discipline,” she stated, her enunciation crisp and formal. „I have traversed countless ranges and crossed waters that stretched beyond the horizon. However, even the most extensive records become difficult to maintain when a dôr refuses to offer its own history.”
Returning to the water's edge, she settled again into a seated position. A paw rose to her snout to smooth the pristine white fur, her movements methodical and repetitive. This grooming was a frequent necessity, a way to erase the grit of the world from her person. „Do you... travel, athal?”