Thunder Cloud

He immediately questioned her story about being thrown into a river, skeptical about the problem the men had faced. She gave a little chuckle, nodding in affirmation. Her tail gave a light thump against the dusty terra, a winning grin playing upon her sweet creamy features. She didn't exactly blame him for his skeptics, she would be slow to believe something like that if she were him too. If she hadn't partaken in the event, she would be the last to believe such a thing. Human traps and things had all but disappeared, except the few that had become consumed partially by the earth and sometimes took strange opportunities to attack creatures. It happened more than anyone in her homeland would like, and had been getting on everyone's nerves just before she left.
Twilight eyes watched his expression as it took a distant, grumpy look. What was getting the man so down in the dumps? Most would accept her help, and here he was continuing to shut her out. A small frown would crease her brow, turn down the corners of her dark lips. A shrug of her petite shoulders and her gaze wandering to the scenery would signal her acceptance, until he dared to challenge her authenticity. It plucked on her nerves like the chords of a harp, and her cranium would snap to face him as a sharp glare would be fixed upon his caramel features. "Now, just because someone pissed in your tea doesn't mean you have a right to accuse me of deceit." Would come a snappish retort, full of thickly accented British irritation and insult. "All I wanted to do was help you, you foolish man." She continued, brows lowering to prove her displeasure at his attitude. Looking away, she let out a huff, regaining control of her unruly emotions.
For the little English dame, that was the biggest outburst she'd had for a large portion of her life. She'd been raised to be polite and take insults with a grain of salt, instead of rising to the challenge and getting into a fight. Almost never in her life had she said anything worse than 'Shut up' or 'Twat' and other assorted jabs, at least, that was the worst she'd said on purpose. When she'd fallen into a ravine and been bitten by a particularly angry beaver after disturbing his dam, she'd shouted curses with such bitterness and anger it would make a sailor tear up.
They were silent, and she finally pulled herself together again. A blush was rising in her cheeks at having been so rude to the stranger. His deep, undoubtedly masculine tones met her golden audits with a note of defeat. He was changing the subject, clearly not in the right mind to speak of what was bothering him so greatly. Too bad, he seemed like he would need it. His inquiry came next, asking for her name. Horror struck the lady as she realized how terribly rude she'd been, how terribly she had acted, not introducing herself earlier. "Oh! How terribly awful of me, I never told you my name!" She exclaimed, her voice rising in shock and what could only be described as horror for having broken a rule in the British Person's Guide to Proper Life. "My name is Alicia Buxton, but I go by Alice." She continued with a soft smile and a dip of her tiara to the giant at her side. Flashing a thousand watt smile to him, she beat her gold dipped plume upon the earth a few times. "What may I call you, good sir?" She would inquire with a soft smile, tilting her delicate cranium to the side slightly inquisitively. Her accent laced her words so thickly it was impossible to doubt her heritage, and her demeanor screamed of where she came from so strongly only someone who lived under a rock could miss it. Her deep blue-purple gaze fixated on his face, holding his emerald gaze as she awaited a title.




"Speech"

You'd have it figured out.