Silvertip Mountain peaceable

And, naturally, he was right. He'd misunderstood the question, though he thought that his was a fair assumption. It'd been rather vague, left-field question. Quickly, he reassessed his original assumption. She wasn't as dumb, perhaps, but she still seemed a bit flaky to him.

Still, he followed the path her nose pointed out and nodded, paired with a soft grunt of assent.

"Alright, guess that's fair. It's the nature of the thing, I guess. Gotta have the light on the one side to make shadows on the other, with whatever twilight thing you got goin' on in the middle. Two sides, same coin." He looked embarrassed, as though he hadn't meant for that to go on as long as it had.

Aesop looked back to the tip of the mountain, one of the few places where snow clung to the earth. "You from around here?" he asked, hoping that she would be able to answer questions about the unseasonably warm winter.