Black Morass frostbite

oh elk the weird child speaks to him. and in a creepy dead tone, too. "..hi," he returns uncertainly, glad when the adult (his dad?) starts speaking again and he can focus on him. the way he speaks is weird, though delight can't exactly put a finger on it, and he decides to chalk it up to the cold. cold does funny things when you're stuck in it for ages. more importantly: "yes," the morwinyon answers immediately, pleased he doesn't have to find a way to not-awkwardly invite him. 

"we have, uh, healers that can help with your injuries," delight adds, attempting for delicacy. he can't help but wonder what they got themselves in to -- and hope it's not something that'll follow them (really, though, he's not the type to turn down someone in need, even as stunted as he is.) wait, though, two sons? the androgyne scans the area. "is..your other son nearby?" he tries, taking a step forward, "i can lead you back now, if you're ready."