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Some people only want to watch the world burn. Others want to be the ones responsible for burning it...

The blood elf huntress is passing by, her nose in a book--a little out of character for the mercenary, but she seems interested--when she happens to look up over the rim and blinks out of surprise. "Varethyn?" she inquires hesitantly. "Is that you? It feels like ages since I have last seen you. How have you been?"

Ahead of Krysteena, the campfire was dying down, and the soft light and warmth that emanated from it was giving way to the harsh and cold reality of Highmountain's true climate. Her armour, meant more for warmer temperatures, was doing little to stop the wind that was blowing in, and Felrius, as scraggly and thin as he was, was no help. Neither were suited for the climate, but where the warchief instructed her to go, Krysteena would follow with dogmatic loyalty. She just wished that that loyalty would land her in a warmer place next time, with more than just burly bears and the occasional rabbit to hunt. If Krysteena didn't get anything challenging to hunt soon, she was afraid her aim would begin to suffer as a result.

So lost in her thoughts, Krysteena didn't notice when a fellow hunter moved to sit down nearby, no doubt hoping to benefit from the minimal heat of the rather sad-looking campfire. Trueshot Lodge, within the main building, was a warm and inviting place, but it always grew busy on nights when it was cold, and Krysteena didn't care for feigning interest in whatever stories some of the hunters would be no doubt detailing within. Perhaps this newcomer was much the same. Krysteena could appreciate that, at the very least, and she cast a bored glance over to where the other had sat.

It was only for a moment, and Krysteena's emerald gaze immediately settled back onto the dying fire. In the few seconds she had had, the most interesting thing Krysteena determined was that he was a Blood Elf, and seemed to appreciate simpler armour over the extravagant many of their kind seemed to drift towards. Again, Krysteena could appreciate that. However, she had no intentions of striking up conversation, and simply rested a had atop Felrius' head as both an act of companionship and careful monitoring. The wolf raised his head a small amount, but it quickly dropped back down to his paws with a soft thump. The stranger was of no interest to him, either, and so Krysteena thought nothing more of it.

That was until, within her peripheral, she caught sight of something significantly more interesting. Wrapped loosely around the other hunter, Krysteena had taken it for some sort of strange garment at first. However, when the 'garment' moved, she saw that it was, in fact, definitely not a piece of clothing. It instead appeared to be a dragonhawk, sluggish in the dropping temperatures, but also keenly alert. Krysteena didn't often seen hunters with dragonhawks at all, even those of her own kind, and she was guilty of this, to a certain extent. Holding reverence for a beast so perfect in design, Krysteena watched the other's companion for a small moment, before her gaze once again returned to the fire. She chose now to speak, and hoped the small gesture on her behalf might be well-received.

"I see you stick well to your roots," Krysteena commented, gaze unwavering and voice belying minimal emotion. Even then, for those who knew her, speaking first was an inclination of interest. Whether the other chose to respond or not would determine whether that interest would remain. "I rarely see dragonhawks being used now. I mostly see wolves and cats and bears." She ignored Felrius' perking up at the first beast mentioned. "I'm not usually one for speaking out of turn, but your companion has caught my eye. May I ask for a name of which to call your beast, and perhaps yourself?"

Tårnfalk looks around in Dalaran. She sees a bloodelf. She noticed his stunning dragonhawk. Tårnfalk loves everything about it and approaches the bloodelf. "What a pretty bird you got there. I love all pets, would you mind telling me the story of how you tamed him, and what he means to you?"

Tårnfalk smiles. "He is adorable. What does his name mean. .if it has a meaning? " She hardly got to ask the question before a big floffy snow leopard comes leaping in infront of her and start rubbing her head against Varethyn.
"Ohh don't mind her. .she loves attention as well. She be your friend forever if you scratch her under her chin "

Some people only want to watch the world burn. Others want to be the ones responsible for burning it...

It's a shame that there aren't more people interested in this - there hasn't been any rp on this forum for quite some time, and I feel I missed it completely, too. Just take your time with the answers and only when you're feeling up to it As this goes on, you may find more people will join in. Getting the ball rolling is the hardest part

And I'd definitely be interested in meeting Kithren. Perhaps a little introductory piece about him would be nice, even if it is just something like his name and class and appearance so that, when some questions are asked, there's an idea of what to actually ask? Totally up to you, I'm just really happy to see the rp part of these forums being used, and I appreciate the work that you've put in so far

Some people only want to watch the world burn. Others want to be the ones responsible for burning it...

Krysteena cast a glance down to Felrius, who was watching Varethyn with a careful measurement of interest now that his mistress had spoken. As both an act of companionship and subtle monitoring of his behaviour, Krysteena laid a hand on Felrius' muzzle.

"He's called Felrius, and while 'beautiful' is not the word most would use for him, I'm pleased that you're not like most. Perhaps that's why you're still sat here, and he hasn't decided to chase you off - yet." There was no joking tone in her voice, and it remained at the same level of seriousness throughout. Krysteena guessed it was more that it was too cold for Felrius to waste energy in chasing off something that wasn't perceived as a threat, rather than any sort of liking for the other Blood Elf. Varethyn, as he was called.

"I'm Krysteena," she then added, more as an afterthought. There was a moment of hesitation before she spoke again. "Just Krysteena." Absently, she stroked Felrius' head with a thumb, and the wolf's head lolled to the side and rested against her boot. For a moment longer, she was silent, and the conversation appeared to be over. However, Krysteena spoke up again.

"Do you have any other companions with you?" Krysteena found herself asking, the small conversation beginning to take the edge off of the harsh wind that was blowing up. While, at the end of the day, it would serve as nothing more than a menial memory of a hunter and his companion faltering in the harsh climates, the small talk may provide information that was worth stepping from outside of her usual asocial behaviour. "Or is Argorok the only one?"

"Her name is Músli. It´s an odd one I know.. hard to explain where it´s from...unless" Tårnfalk looks with a smirk at her lips on Varethyn. "do you believe in alternate universes?"