Neverwinter Forest bad

Had she been another woman, his words would have ignited a fury within her that could not be stopped. But she was the meek Bluebird, and she was not her witty mother. Ah, to be sure, she harbored that very same wit, but it could not be unveiled in her moments of anxiety and worry that she might be eaten alive, then and there.

Ah, so this place was not his? Near to where he slept. Okay. Why did they stay here? Why did they not wander like she did, all the time? Was what she did strange? She took another casual step backward, peering edgewise over her shoulder to be sure the place was clear of that sister he spoke of. Bluebird, she expelled her name as though it were a breath, and it is said and lost on the breeze. It is then she turns to look at him fully before she would sprint off—

And ah, she froze. He was something from a dream. Some memory, taken, implanted. Something strange bloomed within her. And yet, another step backward, even though there was a peculiar desire to be nearer to him. I... have friends, she wanted to say, to warn, but she could not lie. Pack? She asks then, transfixed, still staring without truly realizing she was.