Aisling's step quickens as she glances away- it was not wise to anger the Winter King, or be anywhere near him for that matter. "I do not, Winter King." She murmurs, her eyes glimmering with annoyance. Applying a blank face, her hair is tugged about in a playful wind, natural made. The Winter King was a staunch friend and enemy- a useful and horrifying person of interest to the Fall King. The Irish lass was force to keep with him till she reached her Lord's hall. She could not even speak in defense of herself, or her warning to those of her kind.