Tognatale

Róta wasn’t quite sure how she came to the basin. One minute she was sneaking some of Idunn’s private stash, and the next, well everything was back. She wasn’t sure if it was the mead she had swindled the poor trader out of, or if their priestess cousin had cottoned onto her misdeeds and laced the stash with something a bit more potent to teach her a lesson, but her head was throbbing as emerald slits squinted against the pale reflective stones she had curled herself up against.

Voiced came shouting into her ears, though history had long since told her they were probably speaking at regular volume and the gods were just punishing her for excess. She heaved herself up from her nook and shook, the way her fur puffed making her seem even rounder than usual as she glanced about to try and spot her surprise company. “Well you certainly won’t find Lofn dwelling in these parts, I’m pretty sure they are laughing.”

“Speech”