Mithwyth cocks her head. She woke every morning, no different than the rest. Anything before. . ?
Before she walked in, of course!
"I didn't exactly wake up," she admits, flicking her tail and motioning forward, hoping Nate would get the gist to follow her. The snow falls lightly on her nose and she sneezes, warm breath visible in the air. Tracks of rabbit and quail were beginning to disappear in the white. "I was roaming like I always do, just. . . following my old path to the plains and it got misty, and cold, and then: lake!" Bouncing forward, the forest woman looks over her shoulder. "I remember everything. I—"
His hesitance to be forthcoming makes her hesitate. Does he not remember everything? A guilt washes over her, hoping that not to be the case.