Dragoncrest Cliffs i’m brimming over,

Her ears pricked at the sound of his voice, and she came up short as she blearily looked to see oh-look-who-it-is swaggering for her. “Berx,” Squinting up at him through her own silvery-blue gaze, she brushed on by him—purposefully shouldering at his side as she went. “Why did I have to arribe when all this about to happen?”

“I should have let that coyote starve me. A war is about to unleash isself on ze cliffs, I cannod sleep, sir,” she gripes back at him, a pout in full effect now and her ears lax and awry. There’s a slight lisp to her voice, and her accent does nothing to help.

Rather suddenly, she whirled back to him, blinking and a bit unsteady as she scrunched her pink nose up at him. “I don’t even know the borders, Berx. I haven’t even patroleld. I wanna see fhem, Berx.” She raised her brows at him, trying her best to be the image of command and grace—and utterly failing.