[If Nyskie usually possesses any instincts that would preclude her from lying around next to perfect strangers, her weariness and near-death (or just death?) experience have robbed her of them. Stretched out on her back with her hands lying placidly over her chest, long claws idly tapping, she looks like a cat ready to savage anyone foolhardy enough to go in for a belly rub.]

That’s what you did, isn’t it?

[Judging by the dirt and the sap still clinging to his person, to his hair, to his clothes. She knows she doesn’t look much better; her face paint is probably smudged from the scrubbing she’d done to wipe away the damp soil, and her clothes are a disgrace. If she wasn’t so tired, both physically and mentally, she’d try to marshal her focus at least enough for a prestidigitation spell to clean herself up, but even that seems like too much effort at the moment.

She continues to watch the man as he rolls over and tucks himself out of the warm light cascading down from somewhere within the giant tree’s canopy. Now that his eyes aren’t screwed shut, she can see that they are brilliant violet. Wow, Drizzt, how come your mom let you have two violet eyes…]

What I did, too. After I heard that voice. But I’m no one’s favoured daughter, [— no one with a voice like that, anyway —] so there’s got to be more than just me. And more than just you, I’d think.

[Though perhaps this man is someone’s favoured son.]