And let the doorknob hitya where the good Lord splitya!

Well, since her other marshland seemed to be occupied now Rœkia had no choice but to venture into the Druid's Moor as she continued searching for herbs. Taking a deviation from her usual quest in gathering poisons and risky plants she was on the hunt for some marshmallow for the upcoming winter season. Living alone she often got malnourished when prey began to hibernate and upper respiratory disease was sure to follow. The young woman toyed with the idea of joining a pack but decided against it. She'd rather hunt for a band of loners first.

Slipping through the fog-laced heather like a ghost her silvery coat and dark legs made her appear to almost float through the mist. This place was some how spooky and serene all at once. Rœ's ears flicked forward at the sound of voices as she carefully navigated her way to the source of the sound. Two massive males, one slate colored and another pale gray appeared to have just met. Well, well, what had she just managed to walk right into the middle of?

Rœkia's gaze was struck by the strange ring of rocks and she whistled. "Wow… what the heck are these all about?"

"Speech"