Blacktail Deer Plateau my spirit spurns control

"Kjalarr - well, that is a tasty name," Birk replied, while going through the little vocabulary he recalled from the "common tongue" up North and drawing parallels with the name "kilja", which basically was associated with food. Whoever had named this chap, had done a very good job - there was an old superstition among his ancestors that by having a meaningful name, you could affect the child's future greatly. Which meant choosing between tough jotunn names or food. Birk was an exception, but he was not your typicall ice giant either. 

"It's not every day you meet someone, who could potentially be related to you," he continued, feeling that he should keep the conversation going, otherwise Kjalarr's one sentence statements would not bring them anywhere far. Typical northerner. "Are you native of here or too hail from the far North?"

They would have continued to talk, had not the storm suddenly become way worse than it had been before. It was hard to hear the other over the roaring of the wind, therefore Birk gave up the effort entirely after few tries and sought shelter deeper in the woods. He did not meet the other Northman after that.