Northstar Vale daimort

“Certainly. I see no reason why they cannot ... look upon our sessions, to begin.” For though indeed she had spoken to its General beneath the Moonspire of partnership, she could not yet foresee whether or not Diaspora would remain where-ever they now lie within the spires. Should they take their leave from them, she ... no. No — it was unspeakable, selfish, entire. And so Andraste drew from the depths of her thoughts in time to hear the yearling's musings: fox pelts, an old clan, its mæsters.

“As for teachings ... perhaps we will amend our rites for such in due time. Perhaps we might don our allies in all ze feathers we have acquired,”  an imp’s grin,  “and keep ze pelts to ourselves. ...Although, I do suppose trade between our own and others would be beneficial as well.”  A lull. Then:  “All that is needed, then, is to see who we might greet into our interests.”