Rising Sun Valley a backlit canopy with holes punched in it

At first she didn't believe he was inclined to tell her anything of the sort, but when she considered telling him a brisk never mind, his lips parted to illuminate a little bit about himself. He spoke of a place in the north she knew nothing of, though perhaps she should have. The winters, at least in their brief description, sounded something like what she had grown up with. Siku's claim was rarely blessed with the mild winter they faced here, but then again the Tartok matriarch would have had no it other way. Hunger did not deter them or distract them into finding countless particles of food. It sharpened them like a blade. It developed their cunning and their strength, because when there was food, they went for it like the truly savage, feral creatures they were.

For a moment she was jarred back to that reality and suddenly, the fact she had been driven away on her return made more sense. The hows and whys of that though, she pushed away in lieu of answering his rejoining question. "No." Simple, curt; she had no stories to tell of where she came. Instead she had intrigue about something else to keep the conversation focused on him for those little pieces of information. Just like the food, she wanted to tease it out of him however she could. "What are Amazons? Are they like your vikings?" Her questions held a child-like wonder to them and she asked them very much that way. Like a child persistent with questions at bedtime, she wanted to know the hows and whys.