Tarja turned to the Nord next to her hearing him speak, a pinch of a [i]wolfish[/i] gleam in her frosted eyes glancing toward him.  He was wolfblood alright, but then so was she a creature of the moon, a newborn child of the Stag Prince.  [b]"Trust me.  It isn't difficult pinpointing the mighty warriors of Jorrvaskr."[/b]  Tarja replied with a small chuckle, the young barmaid having brought her another tankard of ale, mainly out of good faith though Tarja paid her a few septims in return.  she took a drink, sighing gruffly and setting the iron tankard aside before resuming. [b]"Tarja."[/b]  She introduced herself with a curt nod.  [b]"And like you, I too am far from home, far from the steep hills and stones of The Reach.  So Companion, what brings you towards these gods-forsaken lands of snow and peril?  The only damnable reason one would travel to Winterhold is just for their esteemed College of mages....or to join those gods-damned Stormcloaks."[/b]  Just mentioning their name, it left a bitter bite upon her tongue, and not that of the ale she swallowed down her gullet.  Yet how strange the woman wasn't much for speaking, yet here she be carrying on a conversation with the brutish Nord beside her.  Then again, she did feel at ease sensing the essence of wolf-blood within him.