Hideaway Strath Vapnatak.

Perhaps there was something about Wraen. She was social and given a chance could talk someone's ears and head off. And at the same time she had a genuine interest in learning about the other person and she could compose herself so that she kept quite and listened attentively. Over time she had learned that very often people, who had troubles in life, simply needed a pair of sympathetic and understanding ears to hear them out. And that worked more miracles than finding the right words.

"Oh, I have met Pox!" her face lit up, happy that there finally was a topic they shared. "Sorry, Phox - one of Finley's kids named very similar. A habit..." she corrected herself. "That's ancient history," she retorted in a way that indicated she was not going to dwell on this subject. "Is there something you would like Finely or Colt or Elwood to know?" she grasped at the second straw she saw in the sea of awkwardness that was about to engulf her. "I could bring back news or anything, really," she said.