It was far too taxing to try and impress two males, yet alone one. Neschume's façade quickly dropped away, and she turned her body back to the tree that had been her support before her visitors had appeared. She turned her blue roan body so that she was facing them once more, the sunlight setting her heather gray backside to a stark white fire. "Sial. A pleasure." Her sultry alto voice was frayed. Pleasantries were obviously not at the forefront of her mind, but she granted her deceased mother at least some relief by using them. Truly, she just wanted to lay down and revitalize. She was normally such a fiery creature.
What did the golden know about her tastes? This was why she was so indignant, always spitting venom at strangers, almost as if she were pushing them away to avoid losing her cool with them. After all, she had been the heiress, set to be Chieftess! Nonetheless, her charcoal-tipped ears pricked forward at the mention of biting winds. Her six years of rebelliousness had been spent in the jungle's humid heat, warm rains, and dense atmosphere. She had never once experienced skin-stripping winds or nerve-freezing cold. Her sunset orange eyes grew bright, stepping forward once more so that she was nearer to the tiger man Sial, but with her attention focused entirely on Thranduil.
"Wind and mountains. Is there... snow?" Her voice, which had been so dull and snappy just moments earlier, was tinged with excitement now. Despite the stories of discomfort and near-death that she had associated with winter and the north, she couldn't help but feel drawn to the idea. After all, her beautiful gray coat had never blended in too well with the impenetrable green backdrop of Rastamere. Her slightly dished face tipped to the side in curiosity, striped mane falling and lifting slightly with the breeze. "Is there a herd?"
sorry for the slight wait! also, this post is lame.
@[Carnassial] @[Thranduil]
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