Swiftcurrent Creek Winter is a cruel creature

Kieran gave her a merry grin, at the correct pronunciation. Sure she could work on the accent, but all things considered she did very well. For a moment his eyes went a bit misty and far away. Oh how nice it would be to be able to converse in his own language again, something he dearly missed. He blinked quickly enough.

"Clap dare yer go. kaskara. towl yer, wud git it soon enoof."

He dipped his muzzle to her and gave her another word, while he mulled over the rest of the conversation. "Samhraidh, Summer"

Kieran looked at her for a moment, debating what to say. He didn't really fear anything anymore, because what he had feared once upon a time. It had come to pass, he had lost it all. He supposed, if he thought about it, he could find fear for his pack mates, but really that was an emotion, he no longer felt he had.

"Not much scares me anymore. but oi nu 'oy cripplin' fear can be. an' oi'm roi 'ere if yer nade a mucker ter lean on. ter tell yer ter git yisser noggin oyt av yisser arse. oi'm juicy sure me shoulders are broad enoof." He gave her a bit of a cheeky grin, but it was true. Sometimes when you were afraid, you needed someone to tell you to move on anyway. To fight the fear that was eating you up.

He bowed his head and spoke quietly, "But really, i'll be roi beside yer ter 'elp yer along."