Golden Glade a noble band of warriors

;-; that's so neat!

The sandy huntress seemed enthralled in his tales. Kodlak found this bolstering; he had never been one to fashion words into images that he could share. He had always used his brute strength and the sharp snap of his fangs to convey the messages that he needed. There were others who were far more capable of weaving a story that would take you to a faraway place. The Nord missed some of them, and the thought left a painstaking burn in the pit of his gut. Try as he might, Kodlak was not the storyteller of his people; he was the weapon and the leader of the Companions, but nothing more. It still warmed him to see such a sharp twinkle in the gaze of another, no matter how lacking his tales might have been. It allowed him to imagine himself in another role, perhaps another life.
 
She asked him about whether or not they could be seen from the Teekon Wilds. Kodlak’s brow furrowed over the swelling sea color of his gaze. He frowned thoughtfully and peered at their surroundings with wonder. “I do not know, but I should like to see it if it is possible. I will say we are in the wrong season for such beautiful tricks of light in the sky. We would have many months to go before they would start to appear,” he explained to her with a soft rumbling baritone. It would have been nice to see the northern lights again. He wondered if the huntress would like to see Jorrvaskr, or if she would trust him enough to travel such a great distance with him. He thought it foolish to ask, so he refrained.