She is, apparently, a breath of virgin air - fresh and without the taint of smog laden in the clouds. It lightens her heart to watch as he settles into her company, as he finds himself disinclined to shoo her away or send her off on some chore. Especially when she comes alongside him, a paws width of air between them both.

She rather likes how she has suddenly seemed to tip his world a little, watching him regain composure making him appear more than just a sour expression and stern nature. Little does she know that this is the very wolf that would be the one to weed her out as a weak link in the mountain’s chain. As Mercenary, it was his job to cleanse the pack of unworthy wolves, and what is she except just that? She is no hunter, no healer, no diplomat, no warden or thief. What is she good for? Even being on her way to needing a designation, she fails to show signs of earning one.

His voice draws her ears forward from her bashful dip, "l am a hunter, above all things, but a protector as well. It is my duty to know those of the mountains and ascertain their goals in life, whether they are counterproductive to the pack or helpful. Now that you are here with me, it is your turn I suppose." She hesitates, not knowing if she ought tell him that she has no goals, did not think she ever had thought of any, feeling as though she did not want to do so if he would be the one to send her on her way- but he interrupts her near answer dilemma with another question. "You say you are new here. Where do you come from and who is your father?"

Another dilemma. Another question she is not sure if she ought to answer. It is an easier thing, considering Nymeria’s welcome, to answer this new question and so she decides to choose the lesser of two evils, so to speak. "I come from, well, many places..." She tilts her heads, "I was born right here, in that den there, behind the thicket," she wonders if he would know whose den that was that was so high on the mountain and yet not used by Daenerys herself. "But I have lived in Ruieze and Aplos and Taviora, too."

"I know what the Mountain Queen thinks of him, of what he did, but I think it is just a great misunderstanding between two strong people." She nods assuredly, as though her strength of feeling could give truth to the notion. "P’pa just wanted to make my ma’ safe, keep us safe… and he says you can’t always rely on the whims of monarchies or dynasties."

She shakes her head, refusing to be towed under the weight of this heavy thinking and return instead to the lightheartedness she was destined to always have. "I think that he was right though, these mountains are beautiful and grand. Who can see them and think they are easy to invade!" This last she says with a look that says she doesn’t precisely conceptualize the horrors of war, had never seen brutality to understand how morbid her proclamation could have been. "You must be strong to be able to determine who and what will make the mountains even stronger."