Silver Moraine Where Do I Go From Here?

He thought at first that her uncertainty about him might cause her to refuse his help, but she seemed to relent after a tense pause, and Rickon nodded eagerly. "Sure, of course," he declared without a second thought, pacing a few steps forward when he stopped suddenly. "Oh! Here—" Rickon whirled, retrieving the clod of meat he'd brought with him, and coming slowly to deposit it at her feet. "It's a little old... well, a lotta old, but it'll give you some energy. You should rest a bit before we start to climb outta here."

Pulling his haunches into a sit, he looked her over more carefully at this angle, but didn't comment on her wounded appearance. His eyes fell to hers— a sweet, entrancing amber, though one had been irreparably damaged by the pincer of an assailant. "Rickon," he introduced quietly.