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The she-giant was not as tall as her ancestors, but she was quiet impressive anyway. Her hair was dark and shorn short, but soft and never seemed to get too messy. Her features were those of a sculpture's enthusiasm in marble, though not as nearly as delicate towards her femininity. But this did not mean she looked harsh or cold. Instead she just appeared stately and strong. If anything it just gave her more of a wise look. And it was her sharp piercing eyes that could attest to that. But she smiled down at the Avian male.

 The little fae fluttered her wings and the ugly crow kept a wary eye on this new creature. Shoma saw the Avian put aside his weapon and she took hers, effortlessly plunging it into the rock of the mountain. The mountain trembled and she smile almost a bit sheepishly. A towering triple bladed sword jutting from the rock, a shield that reflected its surroundings was sticking out of the rock near it. It had only been the reflection of its kin that had drawn attention to the massive skull shaped shield, it’s teeth sunken deep in earth, like the fangs of a vicious beast.

But the weapons’ mistress was calmly entertaining the excited fae, letting her play swinging and leaping games from her fingers. Jar clacked his beak a few times when the Avian glided up to perch in the tree by them. Shoma caught him peering curiously at her, as she had done to him before and smiled to herself. “Nay, tis fine,” she chuckled quietly, “Ye’d be among the few who’ve yet to run screamin’ from mae. Humans think I’d eat their bones or some such foolishness.” The crow crossed to her other shoulder to sit almost protectively between her and the Avian.

“Ye’d think the knowledge that mae kind only eat bones of the grass-eaters would soothe them,” she shrugged. Shoma glanced up at him again and let her chuckle rumble away. “And it’d be the first time I’ve seen a living Avian Kind. Our paintings nary do ye justice.” But as she was about to introduce herself something fell right on her lap. Dusted with rubble, the crow and fae had taken refuge with the Avian, till she shook out her hair and brushed the rock from her armored shoulders. Looking down, a bit curious and rather surprised, Shoma’s chiseled stone-like features turned into a sculpted mask of slight confusion.

“Tis well, Human,” she said calmly enough, “Though with yer kind’s soft body, I do wonder why you’d ever think it’d be a Golden idea to slide down the side of a mountain such as this. Would not a soft hill be better for your health?” But she was smirking slightly. She could hardly help it, even though she knew his real reason for falling had most likely been her own fault. Jar and Tin peered curiously but cautiously down at the human, though the she-giant had managed to become a bit more gentle in her treatment of their drop-in guest.

“‘Fell’ indeed, Soft Flesh,” she stifled a laugh, but looked to Tin and gave her some sort of signal, “As I was about to tell Feathered One, I am called Shoma Othea. This is Jar,” the large one-eyed bird gave a crooning caw, “and this be little Tin.” The fairy fluttered down to sit on the human’s head, holding a small satchel in front of his face. “Take the food offering, Human, for you shall need your energy to bind the weakened flesh,” the she-giant relaxed against the mountain side, “Now, Avian. Ask me those questions ye have. Tis been while since I’ve had a good conversation. Mae wee friends here are nary so chatty.”