Barrow Fields permafrost giants

"Heh." Skífa let his gaze wander for a half-second. This seemed like a good land for a god, but he didn't care to argue. He doubted this other wolf revered the same gods he did.

"From the north," he answered, a little brusquely. Skífa flicked his ears and narrowed his eyes at the fog, jockeying himself slightly sideways as if to continue on his journey. "This place feels like a graveyard. Wonder who's buried here, huh?" He clicked his teeth thoughtfully. His gaze landed on the stranger's dark face again, and he flashed him something of a vague, toothy smile. "Which way you going?"