Hoshor Plains pretty like the wind

Bitterness. Njord’s face softened at the word in an understanding way. He knew the breed of scar upon Vairë‘s heart. It was an everlasting sort, though Njord hoped its mark would heal and become shallow over time – he wished it for her. For Vairë‘s peace.

Then, a small smile of hope and an olive branch.

“That would be bonnie,” Njord said as a crooked smile warmed his face. “Ah can agree ‘tis a poor time for travel. My wife, Meerkat, an’ Ah hope tae be welcomin’ wee bairns this Spring. Ah will tell them of you, of your children, an’ we shall gather once tha weather warms,” he promised.

Njord shifted his weight and took a more relaxed position. He looked happy. Sun Mote Copse, and the Hinterlands, was a low-traffic area. Some days, it made Njord think of how Caracal and his family had isolated themselves on an island… The more family ties his children had, the better, Njord thought.

“Oh,” he caught himself, “an’ Ah’m sure Seal will want tae ken your family better, too,” he added. "Ah will tell her of this." Seal was much more mobile and closer in proximity.

“Tell me of your lads an’ lassie, Auntie Vairë,” he asked with a breathy laugh. "Uncle Njord wishes to know!"