[ She's in awe of his perfect balance upon the thin wooden craft, but returns the smile, all toothy. ] A Vanir is always prompt, Sir Frost. [ At the mention of dropping formalities, she shakes her head, naughty. ] If that is your wish, Frost, then so be it.
[ She comes up to his staff and stares at it in wonder, a finger coming out to poke at its side. Perfectly carved... ]
...the dwarves have never made anything like this.
Action.
[ She comes up to his staff and stares at it in wonder, a finger coming out to poke at its side. Perfectly carved... ]
...the dwarves have never made anything like this.