Silvertip Mountain There were no seasons in the cave

The young woman bowed her head to him, not allowing her gaze to meet his in the way that many offered submissively. The Taggerung gawked at her for a moment, rather stunned that anyone would show him that kind of respect. When he realized that he was standing like a fool with his mouth half-open, the bard shook his head and issued a nervous chuckle.

Oh there’s no need for any of that nonsense, he assured her, referring to the show of submission. Lady Arielle, I am called the Taggerung. If he had not only just met her, he might have offered her a story of a young woman with a similar name – the huntress Auriel.