Gyrfalcon's Keep walking up the rocky path

As he answered, Atreyu kept himself busy by turning his nose to the ground and sorting through the scents in the area — a strange mixture of salty sea air, the stench of birds, stone and conifers. It was a rather high area and the boy wondered if it ever snowed here in the winter, being as close to the sea as it was. He knew, at least, sometimes the edges of the shore froze in the colder months. Perhaps it would only receive the lightest touches of frost? Of course, at the moment, there was no hint of that happening at all, the grasses and flowers that dared make an appearance in the small meadow dull and brittle. Atreyu grinned as he crushed a leaf underfoot, ear twitching as he savoured the crackling sound.

He then turned to the man as he finished his assumption, to which the boy nodded. The stranger had dodged his question but Atreyu knew he would have plenty of chances to pester him further about his activities. Perhaps he could report back to Ragnar about the stranger lurking around the coast? Would the Jarl even care about such reports? "Swiftcurrent Creek," he repeated, locking the name away and then cocking his head to one side. "Is that your pack?" He wondered if this man was an Alpha, which made him question what he was doing so far away from his pack if it really was a week's worth of travel away. "Why are you so far away from your home?"