Northstar Vale we are stardust stories

Mato offers Rannoch a small smile when his leader inquires as to what it was he spoke. “Haran,” Mato repeats the word, slower, sounding it out in the hopes that Rannoch might appreciate the flowing and elegant tongue of the druids as Mato does. “it means: King.” He offers with a reassuring bubble of mirth in his throat — it only occurs to the empyrean now (much too late) that Rannoch could have taken insult to the word unknown to him and he seeks to assure his superior that the druid word bestowed upon him is a honor and not an insult. Curiosity, Rannoch replies to Mato’s question. Ah. Something that Mato knows well, then. “Too busy with my head in the clouds,” He admits, sheepishly and with remorse. It is one thing to aspire to be astronomer and geologist but in his intense obsession with what is celestial he has neglected Northstar Vale. “but no more! At least, I shall be sure to restrict my …preoccupations so I do not forget I am not borne of stardust.” He jests, and gives a soft clear of his throat in a soft rumble. “I seek the mercenary trade now to that I have earned naturalist.” He supposes Hunter would have worked just as well but something in him is drawn to mercenary (warrior or guardian he does not yet know!).

“How are things for you?” Mato returns with true interest in his leader’s life — though only what Rannoch is willing to share, of course as Mato respects his right to privacy.