Big Salmon Lake in the middle of the day

man approached him. stranger, swathed similarly to him, though whereas iseldur was the light of a burning sun at noon, the one who approached was that of a red dusk. verdant eyes locked on the figure, watching him carefully, ears flicking as the stranger nodded to the lake, to the water that still lingered beneath the ice and around the rim.

not often, he replied, a tongue of his own lacing his words. gaelic in all of its beauty. i've only just arrived here, with my son, his 'son' being a small, over-excited dog who had yet to know hardships thanks to the golden knight that protected him, kept him safe. he wondered, though, just how far he lingered away from the man. perhaps it was time to go searching for him again, though he doubted that he strayed too far.

and you? he said, now. come 'ere often?