Altar of Twilight Sipping on fire

my brain is absolute burnt toast tonight oogly moogly i hope this is coherent-

The argent’s words, which she bartered with unfettered flow, had the phantom touch of a dimple press upon the stricken’s scarred lips; but not without a further touch of an impish curl and that which she spoke next:  “Challenging, yes. Though one I would favor, truthfully.”  Rather, it sounded as if it might be ... fun, even. Then—

—she swore to herself in her mind. Not only had her tongue been unrecognized, but still yet was it a tad too silver in itself. The faint tremor of a smile  (rarity that it was)  brought forth,  “Ah, that is, to study stars ... or storms, even, as I have heard how some like to look into.”  A low, thoughtful hum.  “I was once enchanted by them— both, but— that is, stars, I mean. It has been quite some time since I have studied them ... learnt of them.”

A meager surge of blood to the cheeks;
how many before this she-wolf suffered through her incessant, indecisive wording? O!—