[Isolated spots are Yorda's bread and butter. The noise of the city is often a bit much for her oversized ears and years of solitude. So she's a little startled when a person comes running up the hill. She has no time to make a break for it, so she freezes, rather resembling a deer in headlights.]
no subject
...Who are you?
[Eloquent. At least she managed not to stammer.]