Steadily spinning

Eyrún wouldn't be so quick to let down her guard and drink. She was cautious, but even more than that she knew exactly how she herself could be - so she wasn't eager to let a stranger get the upper hand, in an unfamiliar situation. Better to sit back and assess things at her own pace. This situation was no different, despite the thirst that suddenly nagged at her tongue as she watched the stranger drink. "Greetings," she returned her pleasant enough greeting with one of her own, her eyes shining with that faint hint of amusement that they seemed to perpetually display.

"A bit," Eyrún replied to her question, but made no movement to drink - not yet, at least. "I'm Eyrún Finnvi. Messenger of the gods, at your service," she dipped her head and lifted a paw in a dramatic sort of bow. She wore that same half-smirk still as she rose, the kind that made it hard to tell if she was being serious or not at all. Truthfully she did believe her own words; in a sense, though she was hardly a trained seiðr by any means. In another sense, she certainly was not here to serve this stranger, but her own gods, however she saw fit.