Deepwood Weald rising

Belharra didn't miss that innuendo. Her gaze strayed foxlike towards his nethers, pointedly as if to say "intact...? where?" Her gaze did not linger long, not to give him the wrong idea. Food didn't seem like a bad idea. Her stomach grumbled in agreement as she stood up, ready. "Are ye sure you're in shape for such things?" His toesies were frozen right off - Belharra didn't think gallivanting through snow was a comfortable pastime for those missing numbers.

"If ye tell me I'm pretty, an' yer favorite, I might see what I can grouse up." Belharra recalled he was not fond of puns and so, dug right in with a merry twinkle to those shit-stirring eyes.