Grouse Thicket but we can overcome

It had seemed that once the Nord had returned with inquiries of her homeland, the sandy female responded with a quick rambling. Kodlak attempted to collect the pieces of information that she had afforded him with slow-cupping ears. The manner in which she spoke was so different from what he had known for most of his life. He found himself drawn to the descriptive words that were used and the way she seemed to cast aside her home with a nonchalance that bordered callous detachment. Though he had seen the great stretch of a mountain peak many times before, it never felt as though it were an old sight. He was still capable of marveling at his earthly house, even after having witnessed her harshness more than a dozen times.
 
“I would be honored to speak more of my homeland to you. Before I do, please… may I request your name?” the great dusted Nord warrior requested. There seemed to be a bashfulness that had overtaken him. Across most of his travels, a calling had been so freely and openly granted. It was a rare chance that he had to request it from his company. Should she deny him, he would have simply granted her wish and wove a tale of wonder and glory from the tundra of his home. Kodlak had always been taught to value his conversation with others; he had so much to learn from the outside world, after all.