Northstar Vale cradle songs of comfort & bones gnawed by teeth

There was no judgement within Andraste's bearing; only some faint, wearied resignment that had nothing to do with qualms against the duck  (not that she had ever regarded her with such in the first place). To forget, to move on from ash, wormwood; her focus upon the tribeswoman's clicking tongue was as rapt as she could manage, and as genuine as could be. What-ever words were given for such things as snow, the fairylight tucked them all the same into the reccesses of her mind, so that she might mull over them when quietude was more readily recieved. 

"Have you ever seen ze mountainpeaks bring color to ze skies?"  Perhaps, and perhaps not; and perhaps some mere pall of silence would fall o'er the pair, and be all the more suitable when words were so few and the silver faced much strife in the face of plain word. Ears flickering; and at length she sought to convey a means of ... connection, however fumbling.  "Many times were my birthlands blessed with such sights. It ... has been some time since I have seen them. I have never know them to have e'er occured, here, however."