"I have heard little of other places beyond the forest I was in. I was in a temple for a long time, but when times changed I lived elsewhere. I did not know much of the dragons, of the world, of what people thought and wanted."
She frowns, shaking her head. Lauralae is somewhat aware of her own isolation from the world; she knows there is much for her to learn, and that fuels her curiosity more than she might be willing to admit, even to Daenerys.
Fingers brushing over her dagger, Lauralae sends a quick message to her raven before she moves forward, ducking down against the bushes. Her spare hand flexes, touching the dragon scale she had found, knowing the power it had given her.
Nodding in return to Dany, she presses low to the ground and begins to move forward, closer and closer.
"If you have questions..." She gives a slight shrug. No need to push information or tell stories if they're not something that Lauralae wishes to hear. "I traveled the wilds a great deal, intercepting orc caravans."
And she's quiet after that. The further she pushes ahead, the louder the sound becomes. It sounds like... scratching. Foliage ruffling. Lighter steps, and many steps. Not the sound of a heavy hunter, which likely wouldn't be making so much noise to begin with.
Upon reaching the tree line, she doesn't expect to see--winged cats? Small and large. A group of them in the clearing.
She spares Lauralae a look, watches the creatures a beat longer, and throws caution to the wind by stepping into the clearing with the felines. The smaller ones look up at her, curious. A few of the closer ones dart away, closer to the larger-sized cats.
Lauralae nods, once, sharp. If she has questions she will collect her thoughts and ask them - if only because she has faith enough that Daenerys might answer them truthfully. She does not believe so much in other people, but with the secret the two of them share wrapped around them like a cloak there is not much else she can do. She must trust in this woman and trust in the bond that has been forged between them.
Peeking through the bushes, Lauralae hesitates when she sees the creatures in front of her. They're strange things, nothing she has laid eyes on before, and her instinct is to lean back and duck away, to hide - but, ah, her companion is already moving and there is not much else to be done but join her.
She slips out of the bush and watches.
The cats seem to be wild, that much is clear, but not dangerous. The larger ones are mothers, surely, and the smaller their kittens, and there's a pang in her heart as she thinks on that for just a little too long. For now, she purses her lips and takes a step forward, offering out a hand.
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She frowns, shaking her head. Lauralae is somewhat aware of her own isolation from the world; she knows there is much for her to learn, and that fuels her curiosity more than she might be willing to admit, even to Daenerys.
Fingers brushing over her dagger, Lauralae sends a quick message to her raven before she moves forward, ducking down against the bushes. Her spare hand flexes, touching the dragon scale she had found, knowing the power it had given her.
Nodding in return to Dany, she presses low to the ground and begins to move forward, closer and closer.
no subject
And she's quiet after that. The further she pushes ahead, the louder the sound becomes. It sounds like... scratching. Foliage ruffling. Lighter steps, and many steps. Not the sound of a heavy hunter, which likely wouldn't be making so much noise to begin with.
Upon reaching the tree line, she doesn't expect to see--winged cats? Small and large. A group of them in the clearing.
She spares Lauralae a look, watches the creatures a beat longer, and throws caution to the wind by stepping into the clearing with the felines. The smaller ones look up at her, curious. A few of the closer ones dart away, closer to the larger-sized cats.
None make any sign of attacking, though.
no subject
Peeking through the bushes, Lauralae hesitates when she sees the creatures in front of her. They're strange things, nothing she has laid eyes on before, and her instinct is to lean back and duck away, to hide - but, ah, her companion is already moving and there is not much else to be done but join her.
She slips out of the bush and watches.
The cats seem to be wild, that much is clear, but not dangerous. The larger ones are mothers, surely, and the smaller their kittens, and there's a pang in her heart as she thinks on that for just a little too long. For now, she purses her lips and takes a step forward, offering out a hand.
She's always been good with animals.