Two Rivers Isle her own kimchi recipe

Ulrich nodded at Iseul's words about the balance of the seasons. Yes, he agreed. There can be no summer without winter. Briefly, he thought of the seasons back in his old home, when Adylaide was younger. They were the same four seasons wherever one went--well, unless one lived in a desert, like Goliad, or a tundra that was always winter--but somehow, the thought of the seasons back in that place felt different than here. Everything felt different here.

Iseul spoke again, distracting him from his train of thought. Ah, he said, with a smile, his tail thumping behind him. So you met my wife. Iseul said something in her native tongue, and he tilted his head to the side in confusion. The words sounded pretty, though he did not understand them.

"Beauty. Adylaide is beauty."

Ulrich smiled at his paws. He knew she'd meant that Adylaide was beautiful, but the way she'd said it made it sound like his wife was... the essence, the spirit of all beauty. He liked to think of her that way, a goddess of all beautiful things, surrounded by flowers and butterflies and things. But he knew that Adylaide would frown upon him thinking of her as a goddess, a title she had run away from. Yes, he said, simply. Adylaide is beautiful.

Feeling suddenly shy, he cleared his throat and looked up. Ah... your language. What is it called?