Duskfire Glacier into the darkness of a late autumn evening.

As night casted the sun from its seat on the horizon, the trio left the warmth of the den to seek out the sky lights and introduce their boy to spirits. Rye took his place beside his mate, watching as the lights dance across her face with unexpected, but welcome, wonderment. There was much beauty in that moment, a moment the hotah took to admire. With Imaqs first few words, Rye pulled his focus and listened quietly, his breathing deliberately softer as to not disturb his mate, even with something as naturally quiet as breathing. His heart pulsed in anticipation, to what he was not sure but the pounding of his heart was there nonetheless. 
Helplessly clueless as to the minute details of her cultural heritage, Rye wondered if there was something he could be doing, sitting felt out of place, so he mimicked Imaqs pose but that did not absolve the misplaced feeling. Regardless, he stuck with it. Once Imaq finished speaking Rye rose to sit once again, his eyes hovering over their son. "Do you think they will accept him?" He abruptly asked.