Hideaway Strath look at the fire and think of me

Nathaniel hadn't been sleeping when he heard the call, though he probably should have. He was hunting, not sure what he intended to do with his spoils because he was the furthest thing from hungry but too agitated to stay still. The ex-soldier had figured he would feed his dying father again, if nothing else. But when the girl called for him, it was a bit of a relief.
Normally he might have been irritated with it, or confused-- few had any reason or business disturbing him at this hour. Maybe he was fond of the little Mayfair. Or maybe he just didn't want to be alone anymore.
He was already carrying a rabbit, and as soon as he identified the direction of the call he set off after her. It dangled limply from his mouth, almost forgotten now that his thoughts were overtaking him. The call hadn't sounded distressed, but that didn't mean it wouldn't be bothersome. The girl was young still-- no doubt getting into some foolishness and dragging him along because he looked like he could help. Oddly enough, he didn't mind too much.
Part of him almost looked forward to seeing if she had anything interesting in mind; Nathaniel would never deny that he lacked in the interesting ideas department. If left to his own devices (which he often was these days) he would do nothing but his duties and the rest of the time would be spent brooding-- just in case anyone wanted a summary of his time so far at Tindómë.

When the ex-soldier caught sight of the familiar fiery pelt, his tail automatically began to wag a little. He dropped the rabbit next to Mona as he approached, gaze following hers to the snowy valley. Great.
Fancy a bite to eat, little firebird? It was what he had been thinking of her as, since he had joined the pack only to find she was off on some adventure. In a way, it was endearing; now that he had made the analogy, Nathaniel couldn't bring himself to try and talk her out of any further exploring. What was a bird if it could not fly?