Firefly Glen barefoot in the kitchen, sacred new beginnings

Osiris, Firefly Glen, Moonspear Dirge, Hydra.

All of it was stored away, quietly adding the names to the short roster in his head. A flicker of his gaze was cast up to the mountain that the other male indicated, considering the natural structure for a moment before cluing back into the conversation at hand. Meadow's answer was decidedly guarded, something that made the Northerner curious, but not enough to poke and prod at her for a reason.

This one hails from norður. Far norður, upon mountains such as that one, where snow is year-long. Where winters were cruel and the cold-dark long. He wondered if all winters were as such here, or if they would be as tame as their temperate seemed to be.