She thinks herself in Jotunheim and as such, calloused digits dig into the hilt of the blade she keeps by her side, cautious and if one is careful to see weary, even.
” You have a very small form for a Jotunn…”
She keeps composure despite the fact that she can practically feel how tense this stranger is. Mistakes being wary for fear. Perhaps her reputation precedes her.
"I’m afraid I’m not certain what a Jotunn is.. you may be mistaken.“
Of course there are disturbances. Why did Elsa even mull over the thought that a quiet kingdom could be possible? Silly, silly her. Strangers falling from the sky – different kinds of magic shouldn’t surprise her and yet they did. She knew not to fear what she didn’t understand but it was no less shocking to discover the worlds many many oddities.
Still, though she has no fear. Alarm is very real and very present.
