Dragoncrest Cliffs snoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooop

Had she said that? The she-wolf fidgeted more over her apparent words, when others would’ve focused on the wandering eyes and endearing names. Her mind was too busy stumbling through a light haze of sleep to notice the supplication behind Vercingtorix’s advances.

”I mean, it isn’t untrue, I suppose,” Aure mused, allowing herself to take in the hulking male before her. Her own gaze was entirely considering and curious itself. “Drageda to be built on ze shoulders of warriors, and as far as my place is concerned...”

Just as snowy and fleeting, her gaze swept from the column of his throat, to his comely face, and then back to the needle-laden earth where she believed it belonged. “I am but a patch of felt against the likes of you giants. Besides,” she continued, a reddening of meekness flushing her, “What I did to that scavenger was merely out of desperation. I certainly wasn’t brave; I was hungry, and hurt.”

“I don’t mean to turn praise,” Ears pressing slick against her neck, she gazed back up at the Guard. Her words trotted from her, a bit hurried, and she began to trip over her thick accent, “It’s only... I’m... I was never able to learn how to hone my, er, how will you say? My form, when it come to fighting. So I end up strike with emotion, not, er, graces or technique.”

Then, she promptly shut her rambling self up, “I am Aure,” lowering her head and cursing at herself inwardly.