Grand Pabbie once told her that fear would be her enemy, her undoing. it's something she's thought a great deal about over the years. For the longest time, she was certain he meant the fear others would feel when they knew what she could do. Though she knows better now, it still comes as a surprise every time someone accepts her ability for what it is. So often, they do so with little or no judgment, no apparent fright over what she can do. If anything, their interest seems to be piqued by her powers. It's her fear that's kept her in check for so long. Even now, it threatens, a beat of hesitation as she considers the man. But everything she's doing is small and harmless. If he isn't afraid yet, surely he won't be when he sees more? There's no reason for her to worry.

"Not at all," she says, smiling politely. "I like to come out here and practice to make sure I can control it well and fully." She bites her lip in thought, and then decides to spin a spiderweb from ice, hanging from the nearby rock. It's delicate, made up of many thin strands. She's trying to work on making things more finely, things that are delicate or finicky, in case they prove useful in a pinch. "I'm Elsa."