Sleep refused to root itself within his mind, so Njal took to scouring the surrounding area while the two shadows slumbered. He was careful - never straying too far from the pair, nor too close to the glacier-land's edge. The trio would remain secret for a few more days, or maybe even weeks. It all depended on himself, really. Njal was still unsure about embarking upon the path towards his family.
Loitering beneath a stand of pines, Njal's attention was focused upon a mound of nearby snow. He had detected the scent of rodent there earlier in the evening, and had been inspecting the surrounding area with some care; however, Tonravik's abrupt flailing and snarling caused an immediate redirection. In the next moment Njal was striding quickly to the dark patches upon the snow - Echelon's slumbering body and Tonravik's far more coherent one. She seemed repentant as soon as awareness hit her; but the silver man would not dismiss her behavior so readily.
With an inquiring rumble in his throat, Njal strode closer and dipped his head - nosing at her shoulder as an act of reassurance. Evidently, living away from Duskfire with a woman of Tartok had tied his tongue. She was uninjured, interested only in the distant hills. You dream.
He muttered, soft so as not to awaken Echelon (as if speaking over a sleeping babe), but also somewhat surprised — it seemed strange to think that Tonravik, or any other child of Siku the realist, would have such an affliction.