It was curious how, between Eyota and Alo, the lynx seemed much more at ease in the company of strangers than the woman (especially considering it was due to the former's unfortunate behavior around other people that the pair found themselves exiled in the first place).  After the huntress had made her introduction, her figure seemed to diminish as she retreated to the edge of the circle, hunching into her furs as her eyes shifted across each of the five faces before her.  Meanwhile, the lynx began to slowly pace before the warriors, pausing in front of each one as if to gauge their measure. The stumpy, metal-clad figure and the man with the scarred face seemed to hold the least amount of interest for the great cat, though he did pause and lock his bright eyes with the shaman for several moments, making Eyota wonder if he might be attempting to communicate with Mo'Toya in that odd, wordless way he sometimes spoke to her.<br/><br/>The only one he showed any hostility towards was the silent man who had been introduced as Voran.  Eyota suspected it may have been the lion pelt the dark-haired stranger wore around his waist, or perhaps it was the uncanny way he moved, almost as though he were an animal himself.  Whatever the reason might have been it was enough to evoke a scratching growl from the lynx's throat as he arched his back in warning for Voran to keep his distance.  But in any case Alo soon moved on, returning to his partner's side, but not before pausing to brush lightly against the elf's bare legs, his manner utterly relaxed now and even affectionate as he settled down at Eyota's feet.<br/><br/>The huntress stared in awe at this bizarre display, and at first didn't realize what exactly it was Iseldra wanted as she drew an arrow from her quiver.  The shot was as graceful and beautiful as its owner, and Eyota suddenly felt shy at the idea of taking it in exchange for one of her own crude arrows.  Yet, how could she deny the gentle expression in the elf's eyes, or the enchanting melody of her voice?  With a clumsy nod, the huntress reached into her own quiver, drawing out a shorter, sturdier shaft tipped with a hand-cut jasper head and fletched with the red and gray feathers of a gorehawk.<br/><br/>"I prefer these for larger beasts," Eyota explained as she exchanged her arrow for Iseldra's.  "I have lighter ones for birds, but they don't always pierce the hides of things like wild oxen and yaks.  For a dragon, I think impact should outweigh range, should it not?" she asked, genuinely curious about the elf's professional opinion.  If the stories she'd heard about the fair folk were true, it was wholly possible the other archer had a century or more experience on the younger woman.<br/><br/>A curious expression crossed her face as the subject turned to dwarves, and the huntress looked at Gostîm with new interest.  She'd had little direct interaction with dwarves in the past, but in the years since her exile she'd developed a fondness for their metal contraptions, and had traded several creatures' worth of pelts to obtain her iron knife, cooking gear, and a strange metal disk with a hole in it that was perfect for straightening her arrow shafts.  "I've heard much about dwarven ingenuity," she continued, loud enough for Gostîm to hear.  "And I have never been disappointed before.  An iron arrow shaft would likely be too heavy to fly, but perhaps if only the head were made of metal..."<br/><br/>She took a cautious step towards the dwarf.  "Is that something your people could achieve, Gostîm?"