Honeyed Pasture trek along?

He listens close, the cultures of others always something of interest to him - even if it was as simple as a family tradition of thanking the sky for its rain. His own childhood and life in his homeland is but a murky memory now, and he was never really sure when he lost it. So, to carry Pangur's memory instead as one of the many things he's learning, he found it joyous.

Not morbid, exactly, He murmured after her, as though he were still musing on it. I think it sounds.. respectful enough.

He flicked an ear, smiling. To be strange is a good thing, I think.

And he meant it wholeheartedly, like the vow of a knight. When she whispered to him, he laughed a loud whoop, and nodded eagerly, full of mirth and without a single mote of derision in his voice. Forneskja must tremble before your decor!

Galen accepts her second offer without complaint, stomach still reminding him of its hunger - but he would be polite, and save it for when she had departed. He thanked her again, a hum of gratitude, the sound of which only echoed a lone traveler's appreciation at respite from a storm. I hope to meet again, too.

Though, his brow knits, and he stands again, uttering a, Please, let me..

Its a thoughtful sound, more in his head than in his voice, as he hurries over to help haul the deer up onto her. He didn't doubt at all she could do it alone, but it was more painless and certainly swifter if he helped a little. He still worried his cheek a little, teeth pressing against his own skin, before he was certain she was all settled, and even then, he asked, sounding troubled. His paws kneaded against the ground uncertainly a moment before he asked, Are you certain you don't want help back?