Whitebark Stream There are names across the sea, only now I do believe.

He watched quietly as Salvatore paes at some snow, very much aware of the inner turmoil he was making a very poor attempt at hiding. Artyom maintained his silence; the pale ranger was a firm believer that if one had something they wished to say, they would. He didn't mind that his pack-mate wanted to keep his concerns to himself, though he could not deny that niggle of worry in his gut.

An odd question came up and Artyom blinked, unsure of what was to come. It bothered him a little when someone asked if they could communicate with him when it was so ingrained in his nature to be welcoming, and for a fleeting moment he worried that he might make the same mistake here as he apparently had with Bhediya. "Of course," he chose to answer simply, ears pressed forward to await whatever request would come his way.