Duskfire Glacier ice feeds through our veins

It does not take much for the Northern woman to come around.  Her eyes crinkle at the corners, air escapes from her nostrils.  Nomani, she says, but shakes her head just after and corrects herself.  Naumani, she repeats again, ticking off a little check mark in her mind.  When she beds down for the night, she'll be sure to go back over these phrases... her adult brain did not have the same plasticity as Shivali's children.