Bitterroot Valley one night only

Ether had walked, just the two of them, though for how long Seff could hardly say, had it been not for the sun marking the kph ours as they sped by. Too interested had he been in Freyja, as she told him of Drageda and her home, and he of his travels, and the culture of Larksong, and briefly of Blackfeather, though did not delve into the horrors he suspected. He did tell of their religion however, of the Deardic Princes and of those they worshipped.

When she spoke next, he grinned. He was quite frankly starving, having not eaten for perhaps a day, now. "Maybe dinner? You could show me your awesome hunting skills." He suggested with a grin, recalling that she was rather proficient in that trade from their previous meeting. His mind wandered to his family back home, but he'd hardly take long, and was fairly certain his mother would not mind. Fairly certain.