She blinked a few times, her eyes skimming over the face in front of her, taking in the pale skin, looking back at the eyes that continuously grew wider as they stared at hers. She kept a hand on the tender spot on her head, and let her other hand instinctively roam to touch at his pointed ears, and she blinked again. [i]Pointed ears, ears from stories of elves and goblins from childhood! Am I dreaming...,[/i] she thought to herself. Her whiskey eyes went from his ears back to his own, taking in the sound of his voice. She ran through what she could remember once more, running for miles, climbing the tree, the wolves relentlessly pursuing her even when she had climber up onto the branch...falling, and only briefly knowing she wasn't dead when she had came to, and then here she was as she came to again. 
 "Gryson, Gryson of where? Gryson the what? I am Rosemary Thrice of the Thrice and Waverider family, from the town of Edgewater, on the eastern shores. Well, a town it was at one point, before the great darkness came across the water and took the town and every surrounding areas. It furled through the towns, there was so much...," she paused, panicking at the thoughts and closed her eyes briefly. She sighed, and resumed, "I am Rosemary, named to be the Dew of the Sea, but there is not much to live up to anymore. Where are we?" Her eyes didn't glance back at their surroundings, she just lay in the hammock, and kept her gaze locked onto his, refusing to let go of the first person she had seen in ....[i]how long has it been now? How long have I been running?[/i] The thought made her blink, but yet she still did not look away from him.