Moonsong Glacier and I'm drinking your wine

The chief laughed; "Ah, the morning is not so fickle," he said to Eira, settling back down as soon as his company grew less mobile. The weak winter rays didn't do much but make him squint, but he still liked to lie flat and absorb them every once in a while. "I am sure she has greater things than me in mind," he concluded.

He craned his head to look at the pelt, which was just a little too bloody for him to consider it nice. But it would be nice, and when it was — "I think perhaps my father could use it for his sleeping place," he said to her, his voice quiet as if this were some terrible secret. "His old bones cool faster than ours."

He meant to joke, but there was worry in his eyes.