Swiftcurrent Creek And the crowds don't remember my name.

The way he spoke was... interesting. He drew her in with an accent that seemed foreign, that was very obviously not common of the land they lived in. Paarthurnax found herself wondering where Kieran had come from, if he'd traveled far and if he missed the place he'd been born to, as she oft pined for Samarkand. As she chewed at the tough meat, she managed a smile and swallowed, "I doubt you could "butcher" it. Your accent is very unique."

She shook her head then, ridding her crown of snowflakes that clung to her fur. Averting her gaze from her dark-furred companion, Paarthurnax looked skyway. The cloud were thick and grim, obscuring the heavens as the weather threatened to grow worse, and the pregnant Frostfur made to move away. "Would you mind if we kept moving? It'll keep us from freezing our tails off," she chirped, loping forward and past her pack-mate with a beckoning glimpse over a fine shoulder.