Duskfire Glacier where the horned one sleeps

The voice of a familiar pulled the druid from her task and her head raised momentarily to greet Faust with a vegetation-filled smile. He was tough, always resolute - but she had grown used to it by now. He'd become her rock while the world raged around them, while the rest of the glacier battled with matters of heart and tooth.

Satori had stuck to the outskirts, avoiding the harsh looks of disdain by most - and by Faust too - though she'd come to realised his stemmed from a place of care. 

"Healing well, thank you," she deposits her most recent mouthful in a growing pile and comes to press her nose to his cheek in greeting. "Another moon or so and it will be right as rain." It was hard to remain positive when the odds were stacked against her, and the feeling of uselessness threatened to make her wallow. But she'd worked where she could, gathered supplies and mending tools; for warriors so often neglected their health in favour of physical prowess.