Morwyn jerked her head up when she heard the call, and was shocked to find it distinctly Irish. She stood up and peered out from the edge of her hideout, and saw a man a little ways from her. He appeared to be alone, but she was cautious. What would an Irishman be doing all the way out here? Let alone with what appeared to only a sack for gear, and no horse. Someone could have watched her wander off after she stabled her horse, perhaps some scoundrel had seen her and wished her ill. Was this man bait to lead her out of her hiding place? She had no interest in being robbed tonight, or worse, so she hesitated.

Eventually she decided that she would rather indulge curiosity over caution. She had often shared fires with similar travelers, after all, but never before in such a foreign place as this. She stepped further out so he would see her, waved one arm, and called out loudly, "You there, did you say you were looking for a fire? I've got somewhat of one." She left it there, without a clear offer to share it just yet. Her left hand settled comfortably on the hilt of the dagger at her hip.