Twisted Slough tal-pasaj

The man's words pained Ulrich, for the description of that place reminded him of Goliad, a man who had come into his life and slipped away almost as quickly. Every once in a while, he thought of him, and wondered if he was well. Wondered if he should've gone looking when Goliad vanished. But it was far too late for that now.

Realizing he'd lost himself in thought, and probably looked terrible all of a sudden, he tried to force a smile onto his face. It sounds... fascinating, he said, faltering. Warriors and conquerers. He could get with the warrior part, but the conquerer part made him wary. He knew a bit of conquerers, had worked under such wolves for a time. He did not have any love for such types.

Well... Suddenly, he realized he had not given the man his name. Where are my manners? My name is Ulrich. Ulrich... Two-Rivers. A surname that still sounded strange on his tongue. A testament to his new home. Now he smiled at the man genuinely.