Cenaith turned his head to look over her, his brows knitting. "No. You clearly meant something by it." he said calmly, lowering his hands. "If you meant something then speak plainly..." he said, with a shake of his head adding to himself. "Women... never will I understand them."
Pheadra |A weary figure kicked mud from worn leather boots before venturing inside, hood pushed back to allow grey eyes to see who dwelled within. Bow and quiver hung comfortably from her shoulder until she unburdened herself. She would not bear arms within a home, and held her tall form a bit more humbly as she moved across the threshold. She noted the pair with a solemn nod, pushing a thick strand of her dark hair behind her ear as she moved closer, but would wait for acknowledgement before intruding, hands folded across her front.
Dytha looked up at him and breathed out the breath that'd knotted between her ribs. "No, I mean it. It's nothing. A reflex, like a muscle spasm." She licked the tip of her thread and aimed it through the needlehole. "You might understand them better if you stopped thinking you could understand them all at once." Before she could return to her needlework the door opened. Her smile was ready for a visitor, but it wasn't ready for what kind.
Cenaith shifted on his feat, his expression indeed his whole stance slowly growing more tense. "And how long have you been..." but he cut himself off with a sigh, letting the comment go. And turned to see what this new visitor might bring to the conversation.
Pheadra |Indeed her appearance would give clue as to her way of living. Worn leathers, light enough to allow ease of movement, were accessorized with pouches and the occasional bit of grass or leaf. Her stance was proud, with a quiet kind of wisdom behind her eyes. Glancing once to the man, her head bowed briefly to both in greeting as she spoke, "Greetings. I am looking for Lady Dytha. My name is Pheadra. Lady Haeneth has tasked me in coming here."