Deepwood Weald Mythical Mithril

Moira wanted to laugh as he tried to hum it himself. He managed it somewhat, in a different way. She felt no longer like laughing, and instead narrowed her eyes. She still thought her own better and once he was done, huffed. "It...was an attempt, I suppose."

She began to turn her face away, before he asked that. And almost instantly, she went on the defensive. "That is not for you to know." The question itself had touched a rough place.