Wretched, so damnably wretched on the inside—Galadriel will never admit to how truly terrible she can be to get what she wants. There will always be a reason, an excuse—always someone else to blame. She prefers it that way, of course. And when an offense is particularly awful, she repeatedly tells herself that is what they get for stepping in her way.
Yes, a wretched child turned to a wretched woman; but too often she means well. That nastiness is not borne of evil.
“No,” Galadriel purrs back, feeling the draw of the nymph’s power. She is pleased to be met so well, violet eyes dragging over the evening sky this stranger wears. She tilts her head, not caring to hide her unabashed staring. A leisurely smile spreads across her face, as inviting as a warm summer night.
“Is that an invitation?” Galadriel asks, smile splitting into a grin. She had already been planning on sticking around, to feel out the land left with an absent leader. She was not foolish enough to blindly poke the bear that is the North, even if their land is left with an opening. The people are tricky, indeed—they might lead you with a hole but leave you in a pit.
“How do you like the Taigan woods?”
@Wrenley