"Another lass from the Isles?" she balks, a bit surprised, slipping easily from the Lancashire accent much further north, her tongue taking on the texture of the Scotch highlands, "Strange mysteries never cease dunnae?" she giggles a bit to herself before she lets her accent slide back to the middling mongrel tongue she normally adopted.<br/><br/>"Walked by hand by a bird as cute as you, Sweet? Must be my lucky night," she laughs, pulling her horse up to the other woman. She slides off of the saddle easily, offering a hand out to her, "Folks used to call me Glasgow" she smiles a bit, pointing to the scar on her cheek, "But I go by Cameron on this side of the pond."<br/><br/>She pats the horses side as she walks up next to the woman, "Lysander's a good ole boy. He looks blue in the light now but come morning y'll see he's grey as iron," she says with a bit of a smile.<br/><br/>"Now this Guinevera you're telling me about, she seems to be quite the lady, aye?" she takes the reins leading from Lysander's head gently, standing as she chats with the woman, "Sounds like she's a mite harder than a lot o' the slime callin' themselfs men I met since I landed o'er in the Colonies. In other words, sounds like a lady I'd love t'meet," she grins a bit at that.