Dragoncrest Cliffs I'll be dancing until 1972

A bold peal of ”Leave it to me, vindecătorul meu!” left the brana before Rose’s information had even finished completion. Somewhere between ’not far’ and ’transporting’, she’d already flurried past the smokey she-wolf, thin shoulders rounded to forge ahead—and then it was her turn to skid to a stop, needle claws sinking into mud.

”Ahm..”

Slowly, she rounded back to the opkepa, pleadingly looking up into Rose’s face, apologetic expression and all, as she dragged herself over to return. Eagerness continue to shiver throughout her pallid form, but she practically mewled, ”Vindecător, where exactly is ze cache?— I-I am fleet, I promise!” came her hurried, insistent addition.

To prove her point, she stamped snowshoe paws into loam and shook her neck out, snipping, ”I will get your herbs in no time at all! I will get them all! Nobody will stand in my way to return them to you!”

Skayona with the heart of a rauna, indeed.