Moonspear forget my place amongst the grass

Now the inquiry took a more personal approach, but at least it was more along the lines of things he could answer easier. And as long as things continued to go swimmingly, Dirge would retain his confidence in this particular decision. He could have tried to give Hydra the slip on the way here, feigned his interest in the whole thing, but when it boiled down to it he knew that he wouldn't have a fair go of winter if he hadn't joined up somewhere. May as well have gone somewhere where the chemistry was bound to be reactive, and interesting.

"In the mountains of the far south," he started, "several weeks distance from here if I recall correctly." Maybe shorter if one made the attempt to run straight through, but he had not. He would not either—going back there never planned to be on the list and no amount of begging would ever draw him back. He was free, relatively speaking, and found himself unable to resist the urge to turn the question back around to Charon.

"What of you, hm? Did you inherit your mountain or happen upon it?" It reminded him of his birthplace, but only in the way it jut from the earth to a staggeringly high point. The granite and shale stonework had spat its pieces—its spears, he thought humorlessly—down much in the way Winterheart's boulders had hemmed them in. Safe and sound.