Duskfire Glacier nothing in comparison

wintersbane, admittedly, has never been romanced by the stars or the night sky. it did not call to him as he supposes it may call to others. sure, it was beautiful but he did not take the time he perhaps should have to admire it. usually, there was too much on his plate; always something to do and not enough time to enjoy mother nature in all of her untamed glory. a fault, he thinks; a blindness to the simple pleasures in life he has always denied himself for some reason or another. i must admit i do not take as much time as i should to enjoy it. the tundrian admits with a soft shrug of his scarred shoulders. but this sight is beautiful.

the conversation then switches to him and his healing and he peers at his healing leg. nicely. it is scarring but it should be fully healed in a week or so. as far as the scarring is concerned: it would not be his first scar and it wouldn't be the last, he knows.