Much as Ellisaria dislikes the intimation of weakness, she dislikes being impaled on a mountainside even more. Her human form is simply more subtle, and thus better suited to evading the gronn.
Unfortunately, it is also conveniently sized to be eaten in one gulp by the mirror-faced snake (what) that comes out of literally nowhere.
At least she is alive to be indignant, even if she's no longer in Outland.
"I'll stay here. And I even won't get into any trouble," Brisingr says, grinning.
"You should come back later, and we can have a riddle game," Brisingr suggests, glancing in the direction of the lake a but longingly.
Laketown is fairly near, still, especially with the girl's boat still usable.
"Oh - what're your names? I forgot to ask..." she says on the walk.
"We call ourselves hobbits. Big folk call us halflings. Dragons having their own word's not all that odd, I guess?"
Nod. "Getting used to those is hard - the hobbits I know really only live one place, mostly, and we don't leave it often, and the rest of the world rarely bothers us."
She shrugs. "The dwarves asked a wizard for help, and he knew my mom and kinda me by extension, so he set us up. Them not having a proper home seemed - sad."
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