The Tangle perpetual timepiece

The more he looked at her, the younger he suspected she might truly be, but no familiarity ever came. Age wise, she surely could not be far from Opalia and Dacio, which her loneliness out here was unnerving because of that. And, as well as he could tell, she didn't smell like any of the groups from nearby, which her vague-sounding answers didn't really help either. More and more by the second, he hoped she took his warning to heart--she might make for easy pickings for a hungry wildcat or a rogue, bored-enough Rusalkan, even. He wasn't even the worst thing this woods could have in store.

He kept about the narrow-eyed squint, though it told him no more about her. By the moment, he seemed less ready to throttle her or actively run her off. Fine then. What's your name? he started, though seeing her still so plainly uneasy didn't inspire much confidence in her so far, he'd keep up with the warnings until maybe they sunk in entirely. Best to keep it quick, then. If you've got a home that isn't here, I'd get back to it. He was stressed enough trying to keep his own domain safe like this with nonsense lurking past their doorstep in all directions. Last thing some young little wanderer needed was to get tangled up in it.