The Firbolgs' silence had done more than irritate Evyrless. A powerful artifact of your people is destroyed and someone is asking to help restore it with conviction, you choose to [i]ignore them?[/i] Her part in the walk was equally silent however. Seeing Drajhan bumble about the walk to no avail said plenty about what would happen if she tried the same, and she was wise enough to keep quiet until their hosts were more loose of lip. This was further proven when the [i]great, noble dragon[/i] was stonewalled again just before their rest. Seeing the pompous, scaly ape get constantly rebuffed put a tender, fleeting grin on her otherwise cold expression. As for her own questions, she exercised some patience. Finding herself in the Feywild would certainly be difficult if she annoyed these people into silence. 

Morning came and talk felt just as unlikely. She could recognize the Goodberry placed in her palms and was polite about her thanks for it. Then it was time to share stories in a communal circle. She felt like this was familiar, like a gathering of people at home telling each other tales to help act like everything was okay. It wasn't okay then and still wasn't. Just as Evyrless parted with her seat to speak, Harriet's rustic voice calmed her enough to sit. The story reminded her of their past, when similar tales were passed around, entertaining and oddly invigorating the impoverished folk they were shared with. Harriet may have been gruff and blunt, but the most grim messes were cleaned with gruff and blunt. With enough effort. 

Evyrless thought to scoff or grimace at the line about the leech. Instead she found herself smiling, snickering and trying to hold it all back, the same struggle she often found with Harriet's stories. The same reception wasn't given for the giant leech himself, but she tried her best whilst sitting near his childhood companion to not scowl openly. The tale of a great and merciful noble [i]uplifting the people[/i] over the terrible disgraces that wronged him. Had the victory gone to the opposite side, who would be the angel, and who would be the fiend? All of it was rubbish spewed from a man born to great influence and stability, acting like a hero to those with neither because he used them to best his rivals. Evyrless was equally as cynical of this as she was of the reasons why Harriet would seem so fond of him. Or why her Raven Queen would entwine her fate with his. 

She didn't offer a tale of her own, not knowing what sleights might earn her a boot to the edges of Firbolg territory. Instead, she bent herself to the side to reach Harriet's ear. "All I want to talk about is that time when we snuck into one of the palaces hidden inside stag carcasses and had to make a surprise exit when one of the cooks tried to cut you into a piece of flanksteak. But I don't think that'd go well with Druids," she whispered.