Permafrost Hollows my shadow's shedding skin

The man made his appearance, and the way that Indra interacted with him made them seem close, which only worked to confirm the suspicion that Ruona had: he was indeed the woman’s father. He asked for her name, quite polite and she hummed softly. “Rana, Priestess of the Spring and teller of prophecy.” The title of her homeland fell from her native tongue, though her name would still appear clear against the distinct diction of all else she said.
 
The girl started to speak, and Ruona frowned at the question. She had not realized the youth was thinking of offering her a home, and she quickly shook her head. “I am afraid I should not be welcome in your home.” The discomfort was clear on her features. “Death and cold follows me where I go.” The ominous words were ones she lived by, finding a certain truth to them that had brought her much sadness over her short tenure on the earth.