Alaric watches the wolf courting scene in disbelief.
Lio gives Alaric a look. It is halfway between a frown and a smile, possibly both. In what might be the first words she said to him all week, Lio attempts to clarify, "I asked about food, not ships, ...next time I shall attempt ta enun-ci-ate more thor-ogh-ly." Perhaps the scary part is she's seriously trying to speak clearly, and mostly succeeding. "Perhaps ye misheard me." She suggests.
Mel looks at the humanoids that groom the wolves, then at her own cat with a raised eyebrow.
Lio gives Alaric a look. It is halfway between a frown and a smile, possibly both. In what might be the first words she said to him all week, Lio attempts to clarify, "I asked about food, not ships, ...next time I shall attempt ta enun-ci-ate more thor-ogh-ly." Perhaps the scary part is she's seriously trying to speak clearly, and mostly succeeding. "Perhaps ye misheard me." She suggests.
"Huh?" Alaric blinks. "Oh, yes. What did I say?" His mind is miles away and struggling to get back to the here and now, but just as quickly spirals back to wherever it's been hiding. "She has a head, you know," he says dreamily.
And once she moves from his lap to her knees in front of him, she fulfills the unspoken promise to the letter. Her thighs pressed tightly against each other and her pelvis rocking slightly in tempo with her mouth on him.
"and so you are. ... ... Sir Attatoq? Would you like me to see if Lady Silmemir is available?"
"Well, Kiddo? Are you ready?"
And who is in your tribe?
Mel immediately starts to answer that and then halts. Thinks, <I was going to say the caravan, but that isn't the whole answer. This caravan is my tribe, but so are the people in Sandpoint. And that's not all of it, is it?>
Mel accepts the hug without hesitation or question, her own arms very briefly hugging the older elven woman, light touch and fast, done so that Lio's own aversion to touch isn't triggered. Mel nods, the happy smile she has been wearing constantly somehow managing to brighten. She looks at Shae for a moment, silently acknowledging the suggestion the hunter had made and obviously quite thankful for it. "Her name is Milena." She swallows, moisture coming to her eyes, happiness gleaming in them, "And she's healthy... and whole... and ridiculously tiny and fragile." Mel's voice breaking just the tiniest bit with awe and wonder.
Lio smiles, and actually continues to hug you until you start moving away, her aversion not triggered at all.
"Milena." She says, with her sing song voice, still smiling, your description lighting up her eyes. She doesn't say anything else yet. She's still trying to wrap her head around it all. She does however look at your still flat stomach. You can almost hear her happily thinking so tiny, but you'll grow fast, little one.
"Huh?" Alaric blinks. "Oh, yes. What did I say?" His mind is miles away and struggling to get back to the here and now, but just as quickly spirals back to wherever it's been hiding. "She has a head, you know," he says dreamily.
Lio nods, silently. Apparently she knows.
Her expression is forgiving, possibly even happy for him. But she doesn't say anything else to Alaric just then.
"and so you are. ... ... Sir Attatoq? Would you like me to see if Lady Silmemir is available?""Well, Kiddo? Are you ready?"
Lio smiles at Attatoq, at Myri, and at Kalimac. Apparently she's happy. She doesn't invite herself or anything, but she continues to sew nearby, moving her lantern so she can see what she's doing from her perch near the wagon's door.
Her body darkens with a blush as spreads her legs, eyes still watching him, mouth still moving on him. A blush that goes darker as she touches her own soft, blushing wetness. A small involuntary gasp and her mouth sinks down, taking him fully.
Lio smiles, and actually continues to hug you until you start moving away, her aversion not triggered at all.
"Milena." She says, with her sing song voice, still smiling, your description lighting up her eyes. She doesn't say anything else yet. She's still trying to wrap her head around it all. She does however look at your still flat stomach. You can almost hear her happily thinking so tiny, but you'll grow fast, little one.
Almost seeming to follow Lio's thoughts, Melinda's hands move toward her belly, their movement slowed by bands of protective force. "It was one of the names that Alaric had been thinking of... we talked about names after we left the fire. We decided on two names, boy and girl..." her voice happy, quiet. "And then," her eyes going far away, reliving the moment, "he looked. And he told me our baby's name." She looks up, trying to bring herself to the here and now, and failing, "She's so beautiful and precious."
A broad smile of her own answers yours. "Looking forward to being Auntie Ameiko, personally."
"The caravan's not going to be a problem, is it? I mean, surely many children are born on the road... Koya will know what to do. And we have more spellcasters at hand than most villages."
When he finishes, her rests her head on his thigh, her body still shaking, a purr in her throat, the edge of need gone, but not fully sated.
Lio carefully puts you down, feet first, after the landing, keeping her arms around your waist. After a long silent moment, when she does nothing but stare into your eyes, her own gaze filled with the wonder of the moment, she smiles at you. Letting go of you, just briefly enough to take some time to orient herself to make sure she knows where the caravan is, she quickly ends up in another embrace with you. She doesn't want to let you go. Lio doesn't say anything. Just being with you is enough. She has never been this happy.
Shalelu smiles back at you as she swings her legs down to the ground. She gives you a quick squeeze as she finds her feet, then a longer one as you embrace her again. She holds your hand as the two of you set off back to the group.
After a long period of happy silence, she says, "So ... shall we discuss place, and time, and the officiant? I'd like a public ceremony with people invited rather than a private one, personally, because I would like our friends to be there, what do you think? And I'd like to ask Myri to be my Maid of Honor; she is my sister, and I think she would be pleased to be asked. Reta is probably the only one young enough to be a flower girl if we want one. Do we want one? I have an idea for a dress, which could be dresses, if you would like to wear matching dresses, but I'll need to ask Buttersnips about it either way, did you know she is quite a marvelous dressmaker? And we should talk to Rhost about the cake, I would think. What kind of cake do you like? If you want cake. Do you want cake?"
Shalelu is happily ... chattering. This is, perhaps, the girliest you have ever seen her.
"The caravan's not going to be a problem, is it? I mean, surely many children are born on the road... Koya will know what to do. And we have more spellcasters at hand than most villages."
Ameiko nods. "I think there's going to be a twenty-five very protective people keeping on eye on her. And in Varisia, children are born in Caravans all the time."
"And hopefully, we won't be in the arctic by then," she adds.
Lio smiles at Attatoq, at Myri, and at Kalimac. Apparently she's happy. She doesn't invite herself or anything, but she continues to sew nearby, moving her lantern so she can see what she's doing from her perch near the wagon's door.
Attatoq draws himself up proudly, striking a dramatic wolfly pose as he waits to find out if Silmemir is available.
Lio smiles, and actually continues to hug you until you start moving away, her aversion not triggered at all.
"Milena." She says, with her sing song voice, still smiling, your description lighting up her eyes. She doesn't say anything else yet. She's still trying to wrap her head around it all. She does however look at your still flat stomach. You can almost hear her happily thinking so tiny, but you'll grow fast, little one.
"That is a lovely name," Shalelu says. "And it will please your mom to no end."
Mel looks at the humanoids that groom the wolves, then at her own cat with a raised eyebrow.
Rhost's eyes light up at the sound of the unfamiliar food. "What's muktuk?" he says, a fraction of a beat after Liothonae.
Uksahkka is distracted for a few moments by the exchange between Alaric and Liothonae, then turns back to Rhost. "It's, uh, frozen whale skin and blubber. It's usually eaten raw? But you can cook it. Or pickle it."
Lio takes Jorun aside, so that they can speak in private.
She looks at Jorun, her expression hasn't changed much the entire time. She believes in him. She sees something great in him, even if he does not see it. "Yes, ye've earned this, in jus' a few short months. Ye've earned this. So, ye kann accept it, or not. Thots yer choice. Yer a free man."
A soft smile. "Don't let whot I jus' said get ta yer 'ead though. Ye've got a long way ta go afore ye'll outdruid me." She doesn't mention that she thinks he has a good chance of doing so, if he keeps applying himself. His single minded drive to learn is impressive to behold.
His hand closes around the leather pouch containing the magical bead, and he takes it, but his expression has become almost confused.
"I'll, I'll accept it, then," he says. "I'm sorry. It was just ... you could live on that much money for two years. Well. And I ..."
He doesn't even seem to really know what he is trying to say anymore.
Shalelu smiles back at you as she swings her legs down to the ground. She gives you a quick squeeze as she finds her feet, then a longer one as you embrace her again. She holds your hand as the two of you set off back to the group.
After a long period of happy silence, she says, "So ... shall we discuss place, and time, and the officiant? I'd like a public ceremony with people invited rather than a private one, personally, because I would like our friends to be there, what do you think? And I'd like to ask Myri to be my Maid of Honor; she is my sister, and I think she would be pleased to be asked. Reta is probably the only one young enough to be a flower girl if we want one. Do we want one? I have an idea for a dress, which could be dresses, if you would like to wear matching dresses, but I'll need to ask Buttersnips about it either way, did you know she is quite a marvelous dressmaker? And we should talk to Rhost about the cake, I would think. What kind of cake do you like? If you want cake. Do you want cake?"
Shalelu is happily ... chattering. This is, perhaps, the girliest you have ever seen her
"Cake is good." Lio blinks. A little overwhelmed by your questions, by things she's never even considered, by dreams that until just a few minutes ago had never crossed her mind. She tries to answer your questions, hoping she doesn't mess up the order, "Maybe Koya, unless you think someone else would want to? I don't really have any family, except for Mel, but I'm not sure she considers herself as my family since we barely know each other; I..." she gets stuck for a few breaths, trying to explain her lack of family, and it takes her a moment to remember you know what happened, you'd been there for her, when she told the story, stayed near, to make sure she was ok. "Uhm, we have friends, it... would be nice to have them there; how many people make a public ceremony?" A small tinge of panic which she quickly swallows, at being the center of attention. But then she realizes all eyes will be on you, so it probably won't be as scary. "Buttersnips is a dressmaker? I... I have a skirt. Maybe a dress would be nice, unless you don't want me to wear a dress. I could wear pants." You get the impression you'll have to take the lead here, she's a bit out of her depth. She's never been to a wedding, she's only glimpsed them from afar. "There aren't any flowers out here, when... when do you want to have the ceremony?
Lio flaps her wings experimentally, and after a moment of bracing herself against the painful cold, takes off easily, apparently a natural at this sort of thing... now landing, later... that might be another thing altogether. She stays close by the other two women.
Zaiobe keeps her flight slow and close to you, demonstrating by example with her wings; although you seem quite naturally good at it, she clearly has techniques she can teach you, and your first impromptu flight lesson begins.
The Crevasse is dark, shadowed by a thin crust of ice and snow. Zaiobe creates a magical light, which reflects off of the glittering walls of ice.
The Crevasse is deep, plunging into the earth beyond what Zaiobe's light currently illuminates, even with your still-excellent vision.
The three women descend into the Crevasse, Zaiobe and Liothonae flying, and Shalelu walking on the air.
"Oh, Abaddon.. source of riv'r Styx, home of deamons... vast wast'land... bought, whot does thot 'ave ta do weth bein cranky?" She asks. "Why didnna ye jus' smoke insaide?"
"If you live in Abaddon, it makes you pretty cranky," he replies easily, "What with the daemons and the vast wasteland and all. And smoking indoors is rude, or at least that's what my stepdad always said."
His hand closes around the leather pouch containing the magical bead, and he takes it, but his expression has become almost confused.
"I'll, I'll accept it, then," he says. "I'm sorry. It was just ... you could live on that much money for two years. Well. And I ..."
He doesn't even seem to really know what he is trying to say anymore.
"Ye dinna do annyken wrong." She says, her voice quiet, gentle even. "Dunna 'ave ta apologize fer being surprised. I know it's a lot of money. But I want ye ta unnerstand, ye are worth more than ye ken."
A pause, so she doesn't overwhelm him.
"An' summataimes, people give ye things, because they ken ye maight like whote'er they wont ta give ye. Not e'erything 'as strings attached. I knou Mel an' Myri laike given presents ta people 'ey laike. Et dunna mean they wont summaken frum ye. It moight be 'ard ta believe, bought at least amongst the trav'lers of this caravan, there are good people. So dunna panik if summone trais ta give ye summaken. An' if yer not suare, yer always welcome ta ask me. An' if ye need a reasen, well, I am 'e Druid, an yer 'e apprentice. Reason enough, I ken." She gives him a reason, so he doesn't have to believe that she would do something out of the kindness of her heart.
Lio makes sure to sear the necks with fire, so the heads don't grow new trolls. "Do 'e bodies grow new 'eads too?" She asks Ulf, as she takes a short break, and watches Hrunndalf and Rhost take heads much more efficiently that she had been doing. She sighs, thinking she should have bought a better sword.
"Yup," Ulf replies. "But the bodies got burned pretty bad in the fight. I think they'll be OK."
(While Hrunndalf is quite efficient in his troll-beheading, Rhost, using a hammer, is not efficient so much as ... inefficient does not quite cover it. Whatever the complete opposite of efficient is.)
Rhost's eyes light up at the sound of the unfamiliar food. "What's muktuk?" he says, a fraction of a beat after Liothonae.Uksahkka is distracted for a few moments by the exchange between Alaric and Liothonae, then turns back to Rhost. "It's, uh, frozen whale skin and blubber. It's usually eaten raw? But you can cook it. Or pickle it."
Lio listens, then asks, "Why... frozen? Ets so cold, ye'd ken, warmth woulde be naice."
Lio flaps her wings experimentally, and after a moment of bracing herself against the painful cold, takes off easily, apparently a natural at this sort of thing... now landing, later... that might be another thing altogether. She stays close by the other two women.** spoiler omitted **
The three women descend into the Crevasse, Zaiobe and Liothonae flying, and Shalelu walking on the air.
"Where's Ul-Angorn?" Not the slightest embarrassment about being a geographically dunce.
"It's over on the other side of the High Ice," Uksahkka replies. "It's sort of the equivalent of Unaimo on the side closer to Tian Xia - the last stop on the Path before it hits the Ice, the first town after for people coming the other way."
"Or, um, so I've heard. I've never been there," she admits.
"If you live in Abaddon, it makes you pretty cranky," he replies easily, "What with the daemons and the vast wasteland and all. And smoking indoors is rude, or at least that's what my stepdad always said."
"Bean kranky es rude, too." She quips. "But thot dunna stop ye."
"And hopefully, we won't be in the arctic by then," she adds.
"We'd get through that, too," Hrunndalf says with adventurous optimism. "But I'm all for leaving this cold and gloom behind as soon as we can. I doubt the Storm Tower will tempt us to tarry, either."
"Speaking of which," he adds, a bit more cautiously. "I bet that tower offers some grand views. Do you think you'd be up for a... picnic... on the top? No serious questions this time, promised." He smiles, hopefully disarmingly.
DATES: Abadius 21 through Abadius 27
LOCATION: The Boreal Expanse
SPECIAL ENCOUNTERS:
WEATHER: Calm
WIND: Light
DAY/NIGHT CYCLE: Polar Night
AVERAGE TEMPERATURE: -75 degrees Fahrenheit / -59.4 degrees Celsius
DISTANCE TRAVELED THIS WEEK: 192 miles
TOTAL DISTANCE FROM SANDPOINT: 3559 miles
TOTAL TIME SINCE LEAVING SANDPOINT: 142 days
Keeping the tall peaks of the Alabastrines to your right, the Caravan boldly plunges forward into the terra incognita known as the Boreal Expanse.
You are able to move at full speed this week.
The Caravan does not suffer from cold fatigue.
The temperature remains at a deadly, freezing chill, and something even stranger happens; for the first six days of the week, every 12 hours exactly, a blast of even deeper cold surges across the Caravan, a chill so intense that it threatens to make metal shatter like glass.
Each time such a blast passes across the Caravan, you must do your best to protect it against damage from the intense cold.
Twelve Cold Gate Security Checks, DC 23, -2 for altitude: , , , , , , , , , , ,
Only twice do you take damage, the Caravan suffering just worth, but you will be at a -2 to AC and Attack checks until the breaks are repaired.
On the last day of the week, when you finally seem to be out of range of the chilling blasts, you stop to attempt repairs.
While you are stopped, some of you notice a faint bluish glow at the northern horizon. Whatever it is, it is still a good many miles away, at least another full day's travel. You suspect, if your navigation has been accurate, that it may be emanating from the location of the Storm Tower.
The damage is completely repaired and the Caravan no longer suffers the penalty.
Morale remain high.
You are able to replace the unit of Repair Materials that you used.
Late in on the seventh day, while you are stopped for repairs, you spot a group of strange creatures watching your Caravan. They are vaguely humanoid in shape, but appear to be entirely made of ice.
They show no inclination to approach any closer. You may ignore them, or attempt to approach them and make contact. (Approaching them would require leaving the zone protected by the Sashimono of Comfort, so would necessitate Resist Energy spells.)
"Bean kranky es rude, too." She quips. "But thot dunna stop ye."
"Yeah, but if I stop being cranky I drown in the resulting pleasantness and die, like when a shark stops swimming," he replies.
Lio listens, then asks, "Why... frozen? Ets so cold, ye'd ken, warmth woulde be naice."
"I think it pretty much arrives frozen on delivery," Uksahkka observes, "And no one wanted to wait, so now it's a tradition."
The walls are sometimes rough, sometimes smooth, and often broken into strange crystalline shapes. Occasionally, fragile bridges of snow and ice arch from ledge to ledge, some solid enough that they might hold someone's weight, others that look as if they might disappear at a touch.
In the light from Zaiobe's spell, the walls around you are a spectacular neon blue, a completely different color from the stark white surface.
The three of you begin your exploration.
"Ye dinna do annyken wrong." She says, her voice quiet, gentle even. "Dunna 'ave ta apologize fer being surprised. I know it's a lot of money. But I want ye ta unnerstand, ye are worth more than ye ken."
A pause, so she doesn't overwhelm him.
"An' summataimes, people give ye things, because they ken ye maight like whote'er they wont ta give ye. Not e'erything 'as strings attached. I knou Mel an' Myri laike given presents ta people 'ey laike. Et dunna mean they wont summaken frum ye. It moight be 'ard ta believe, bought at least amongst the trav'lers of this caravan, there are good people. So dunna panik if summone trais ta give ye summaken. An' if yer not suare, yer always welcome ta ask me. An' if ye need a reasen, well, I am 'e Druid, an yer 'e apprentice. Reason enough, I ken." She gives him a reason, so he doesn't have to believe that she would do something out of the kindness of her heart.
He looks at his toes.
"Melinda gave me a fur a while back," he mumbles. "She thought I didn't like it."
"Cake is good." Lio blinks. A little overwhelmed by your questions, by things she's never even considered, by dreams that until just a few minutes ago had never crossed her mind. She tries to answer your questions, hoping she doesn't mess up the order, "Maybe Koya, unless you think someone else would want to? I don't really have any family, except for Mel, but I'm not sure she considers herself as my family since we barely know each other; I..." she gets stuck for a few breaths, trying to explain her lack of family, and it takes her a moment to remember you know what happened, you'd been there for her, when she told the story, stayed near, to make sure she was ok. "Uhm, we have friends, it... would be nice to have them there; how many people make a public ceremony?" A small tinge of panic which she quickly swallows, at being the center of attention. But then she realizes all eyes will be on you, so it probably won't be as scary. "Buttersnips is a dressmaker? I... I have a skirt. Maybe a dress would be nice, unless you don't want me to wear a dress. I could wear pants." You get the impression you'll have to take the lead here, she's a bit out of her depth. She's never been to a wedding, she's only glimpsed them from afar. "There aren't any flowers out here, when... when do you want to have the ceremony?"
"Koya is a good choice," Shalelu responds cheerily. "A number of others could, but no one is going to be put out if we pick Koya. And I am sure Mel considers you family; long-lost relatives are relatives nonetheless, so she should perhaps be in your bridal party in some capacity, if you would like her to be. A public ceremony is as many or as few as we want, really, although if we have it on our travels I should feel odd not inviting the whole of the Caravan, which would be rather nice, really, large enough to be a party but small enough not to be overwhelming. I was considering asking Buttersnips if she might make me a dress of white dragon scale, and I think there would be enough material for you as well if you wanted to match, but you in a dashing tuxedo would be equally adorable, a difficult decision. And I will find flowers because there will be flowers at my wedding," she says with a certain fixed determination. "Oh, Spivey might make a lovely flower girl, too," she says, snapping back to cheeriness instantly.
"And as to when ... well. Would you like to have the wedding at the North Pole, among the Nameless Spires? Or when we reach Tian Xia? Or at the next town we reach, which sounds like it might be Ul-Angorn? Or simply out in the wilds somewhere on the polar icecap? We have," she points out, "Some rather spectacular options."
"So ..." Ulf says late in the week, by the fire. "Let me make sure I've got the deranged plan straight here. The idea is to head for the Storm Tower, deal with whatever is there, then assuming-we-survive take a side trip to the Nameless Spires at the North Pole to ... sight-see or check to see if there's a connection or something ... then head across the Ice to Dead Man's Dome and get back on the Path of Anganhei there. That about sum it up?"
"We'd get through that, too," Hrunndalf says with adventurous optimism. "But I'm all for leaving this cold and gloom behind as soon as we can. I doubt the Storm Tower will tempt us to tarry, either."
"Speaking of which," he adds, a bit more cautiously. "I bet that tower offers some grand views. Do you think you'd be up for a... picnic... on the top? No serious questions this time, promised." He smiles, hopefully disarmingly.
A slight pause.
"Well, as you say, I don't think we'll be tempted to tarry there," she says slowly. "I'm not sure a picnic will be in order."
"Well, as you say, I don't think we'll be tempted to tarry there," she says slowly. "I'm not sure a picnic will be in order."
"Fair enough," Hrunndalf says, keeping his disappointment to himself. "Let's wait for greener pastures, then."
Attatoq draws himself up proudly, striking a dramatic wolfly pose as he waits to find out if Silmemir is available.
"I take that as a 'yes,'" says Kalimac dryly.
Attatoq draws himself up proudly, striking a dramatic wolfly pose as he waits to find out if Silmemir is available."I take that as a 'yes,'" says Kalimac dryly.
"I think I would tend to agree." Myri remarks as she continues to smile at Attatoq. "Let me see if Silmemir is around."
Myriana turns towards the wagon, notices Liothonae. "Oh, hi Lio, can u see if Silmemir is in & would like to come out and socialize?"
"Bean kranky es rude, too." She quips. "But thot dunna stop ye.""Yeah, but if I stop being cranky I drown in the resulting pleasantness and die, like when a shark stops swimming," he replies.
** spoiler omitted **
Lio nods at his quiet words, possibly filing them away for a future conversation.
"Dep'nds on 'e species of Shark, dunna it?" She asks.
Attatoq draws himself up proudly, striking a dramatic wolfly pose as he waits to find out if Silmemir is available."I take that as a 'yes,'" says Kalimac dryly.
"I think I would tend to agree." Myri remarks as she continues to smile at Attatoq. "Let me see if Silmemir is around."
Myriana turns towards the wagon, notices Liothonae. "Oh, hi Lio, can u see if Silmemir is in & would like to come out and socialize?"
Lio looks up from her mending, which is making reasonable progress. She puts it down, nods at Myri, and ducks through the door to find Silmemir inside the warmth of the wagon.
Lio listens, then asks, "Why... frozen? Ets so cold, ye'd ken, warmth woulde be naice.""I think it pretty much arrives frozen on delivery," Uksahkka observes, "And no one wanted to wait, so now it's a tradition."
"I ken et would be b'tter fried, but then, I feel thot way about most food." Lio smiles. "So... how do ye eat et ef et's frozen?"
The great crack in the Ice is more than 100 feet deep, and miles long, snaking through the polar cap like a great cave open to the sky.
The walls are sometimes rough, sometimes smooth, and often broken into strange crystalline shapes. Occasionally, fragile bridges of snow and ice arch from ledge to ledge, some solid enough that they might hold someone's weight, others that look as if they might disappear at a touch.
In the light from Zaiobe's spell, the walls around you are a spectacular neon blue, a completely different color from the stark white surface.
The three of you begin your exploration.
Lio can't help but be amazed. This is worth fighting the painful cold for. This is beautiful and spectacular. A glance at Shalelu, to see her beloved's reaction to this natural wonder, and one at Zaiobe, to figure out how to maneuver better, and to see her friend's reaction as well. Lio most certainly has fun swooping under and over the fragile brides, careful not to touch them.
He looks at his toes.
"Melinda gave me a fur a while back," he mumbles. "She thought I didn't like it."
Did ye like it?" She asks. Then she adds...
"Not trusten people to 'ave yer best intenshuns at heart es a good policy. Most do not. Ye jus' need to learn to figure out when summaem come along thot are worth trusten, and then ye can decide how far ye wish ta trust." She smiles, still learning this lesson. "Ye shoulde hear whot I said to 'Runndalf last time he looked at me funney. I might have gone o'erboard. I know he's not an evil man, bought for summa reason, I cannot trust him not ta sacrifice e' rest of us, so 'e can live out 'is dream. An' e' thing is, I know my reacshun is purely emotional, but 'e jus' sets me off e'erytime he thinks ta tell me how he ken I shoudde use my powers." She tells him what happened in the cave with Hrunndalf. "Anyway, moral of 'e story es... trust yer instincts, but 'ave the grace ta learn from yer mistakes. Or not, as in my case." Another small smile.