Shadowwyn Moor teach us things about our own tongue

She was quite out of place, to the haunted lands. Her vibrant colors, and her playful eyes, and a voice that hummed a tune, she was bopping and sashaying her way around the whitened world, simply enjoying a night-time stroll. Her excuse was to 'patrol' if anyone was to asked, but many knew in reality Aerasha never did the usual routines that others plead her to do. She was simply going in her own pace, which led to the quiet night of the moor.

Though with this small world so bleak, it was easy for her split gaze to catch the site of a darker pelt, who also stood out amongst the snow. As a friendly fellow, the fae took a sweet moment to stode her way over to the figure, finding them smaller then she thought, and a familiar pack-scent could be detected. She had a pleased smile, with a usual lazy gaze while greeting toward Merrick, "Heeeeeey.~"