Blackfeather Woods She's Never Gonna Sing Them No More

Taikon recalled his mountain home, but there had never been a time the snow had fallen year round. Even at the summit, there was a melting period that resulted in very little snowfall for much of the year. Most of the mountain had been lush and green — Gracious seemed from a place beyond what he wanted to know. They were both built for the cold, as all their kind, but such unwavering weather would shatter a worn soul like his.
He grinned when she mentioned feeling tall, but didn't think the joke needed to be voiced. He simply nodded, perhaps a touch too swiftly.
Though she was quick to turn attention back to him, he did not mind sharing. Actually, I was born on a mountain funny enough, he explained, though it was hardly a humorous statement. It was a lot shorter and greener than these great spires though. Lots of game, but most of it was farther south where humans hunted often. Especially in the Autumn. But the mountain itself was safe enough, he said, describing it as though bored. His voice seemed to drift. He stared mostly toward the ground ahead of them, apparently unable to make eye contact.