Tripping Up

Log Info

• Title: Tripping Up
• Emitter: Geir
• Characters: Seyardu, Skielstregar, Geir, Tawyse
• Place:Mictlan
• Time: December 14th, 2021
• Summary: Geir is relaxing outside his camp in Mictlan, and spots Seyardu tending to the bones outside of the dragon said to still protect the place. Dozens of feet up in the air, with nothing beneath their feet. After a moment of confusion she spots her fellow shaman, and joins him at their fire, shortly after joined by her brother Skielstregar who was hauling wood into the encampment. The two had met before, and they discuss what brings them here, Geir embarassing Skielstregar in the process after noting the strength required to bring so much for the nest mothers in one trip. They talk about various things, and Geir retires to his tent to get some sleep, leaving the two siblings together. They discuss Skielstregar's embarassment, him stating he does not wish to seek out any relationships at the moment, but make more friends. A gnome enters Mictlan on a large beetle, much to the confusion and curiosity of the two makari, and they introduce themselves. The gnome reveals their name is Tawyse, and they are a druid near mictlan, as Seyardu and Skielstregar inquire what brings them there, and if they need any assistance. Tawyse talks about what they do, and the group discovers several mutual acquaintances and friends in Mictlan, including Sjach, which embarasses Seyardu deeply, coupled with teasing from her brother. They speak of winter, and are invited to a winter camp by Tawyse, to which both agree to join them, after their tasks for the day are done.

A thick mist surrounds Mictlan in a wet, cold blanket. But, thanks to the ancient seals and wards, the chill fog is kept at bay. It does make for mournful scenery, however.

Seated outside a small tent, tucked out of the way of the usual gathering places, Gear enjoys something tasty on a stick. Glad only in a sizable towel wrapped around his waist, it appears that the copper-scale has been enjoying a rather leisurely day.

Pausing in his chewing, he leans over and hefts a log from a small pile, which is one-handed into his firepit.

Out and about in Mictlan, there were sights that were not often seen in the city. But even there, some sights were still strange. There was a glint of light in the air, and closer inspection revealed that it was a silver scaled makari in a leather skirt, a cloth in one hand, and a small bottle in the other. She was standing on nothing, and polishing the bones with a cloth.

It seemed she had taken that challenge personally.

Tt may have taken /some/ time for Geir to notice the silver-scale, given that he was comfortable, warm, and feasting on a slow-roasted, succulent haunch of lamb. Probably the lamb.

But he does notice, squinting at first and then chuckling at length. "This one has seen many things. Now one more thing may be added to the list." His tone is low, conversational.

Finished with her work, the cloth and bottle are stowed into the satchel on their side, and they spend a short moment walking around it to see if they missed anything. And then a voice speaks up, she looks down and over, looking for the source of it, all around the area.

From within the forests, there is a sound of something heavy dragging along one of the trails. Scrrrch... scrrrch.... scrrrchhh... huff.

Emerging some distance away from the exchange was a massive tarnished bronzescale makari. Clad in a simple brown tabard and a cloak, a familiar dead eyed man is hauling an impressive load of chopped wood behind him. Perhaps... five times his weight.

The man drops the ropes for a moment, heaving a big sigh as he plops onto the ground to take a breather. He was practically venting steam with each breath as his head lulls back against the makeshift sled with a dull >clunk<.

The copper-scale takes a few moments to finish off his meal, eyeing the confused silver-scale. The corners of his mouth curl upwards in amusement. The stick, once used to hold lamb for roasting, is tossed into Geir's firepit, quickly being consumed.

He clears his throat. "Down here.", he says, still at a conversational tone. A chuckle can be heard deep in his throat.

Finally the cleric pinpoints the source, thanks to the second call out. Seyardu steps down, each step as if on solid ground, which, for the notoriously clumsy makari, was anything but graceful. But she manages to reach the small camp.

"Ah, Shaman Geir! Peace on your nest." She greets warmly, with a low scent of embarassment in the air, but much more joy. "This one was hoping to find you and speak to you, but, another time. There is something much more important." She states, turning to wave to the other makari who was sprawled out nearby. "That being my brother! I have a brother, and I found him recently! It is the most wonderful of things, is it not?"

The tarnished bronze scale huffs for a few more moments, recovering for a moment before he gets up, scoops the ropes into his grasp, and then-

The voice carries along the wind, the fanged man swiveling to and fro. He couldn't hear the conversation, but he recognized the tone. His eyes widen, and he approaches.

Well, he stops halfway, tests the direction of the wind, then makes a wide half circle around the camp before full committing and approaching. Large, lumbering steps felt.

That scent of dread and decay is barely noticeable. If its even there at all. "Peace on your nest, Shaman Geir, Shaman Seyardu," he says in their native tongue, bowing slightly as he watches the two. Gaze lingering on the silverscale. "This one takes it that both are well? You look good, Seyardu. Impressive that you can avoid the ground and trip upwards!" he jokes, smiling with a rumble in his throat.

The copper-scale chuckles, his expression mirthful as Seyardu makes it to the bottom of the 'stairs', and over to his small tent and firepit. He sits a bit more upright, attempting to both lounge about but look somewhat respectable.

"Peace on your nest, Shaman Seyardu. This one is curious about what it is you wanted to speak on, before you spoke of finding your brother. This one believes he was aware of such a fact, however. And indeed, it is good to find those whom you have misplaced.", he says in Draconic.

His eyes widen ever so slightly, and he straightens further just as the bronze-scale speaks. Turning slightly, he offers a polite nod. "Peace on your nest, Warrior Skielstregar. THis one sees you have partaken in his favourite hobby, that of collecting wood for the fires."

"Yes, this one is doing well, Skielstregar." The silverscale chuffs with the embarassment returning in full force. "And I was not tripping up wards, I was walking on air."

"Well, I was not always tripping." She chuffs again. The cleric had managed to trip on nothin a few times during the process. "Shaman Geir told me the bones of the dragon who protects this place needed ritual anointing with oils, and I was only now able to do the tops like he told me to."

"As for what was to be spoken of, another time, Geir. I would rather not ask with my brother around, lest he embarass me even more than now."

Skielstregar puts his hands on his hips, the warrior lacking any armor and most of his weapons save for a single spear strapped over his back. "Ah, yes! Of course! This one finds collecting wood and making firewood is the best they can do for the people! But, that load over there," he points to the large payload of unchopped wood with a too long talon, "is meant for the nest mothers to help with the finishing touches of their nest construction. This one is going to drop it off there and be on their way!"

The half-dead makari grins, rumbling a chuckle deep in his chest as he steps near Seyardu. He held no scent, actually. It was scrubbed away. So being near him was actually bearable. Though, he does turn to face her, his eyes wide and joyful. If... a bit mischievous. "Oh? What is that the illustrious Shaman-Warrior is holding on this one~?" he croons, prodding the silverscale in the side with a knuckle.

... wait. The two were...?

Geir chuckles and nods slightly, "Just so, Seyardu. We can speak another time, this one is willing to wait." He nods in response to her story. "Indeed. The bones are ancient, and some care is required to prevent them from falling apart. Though, simply hovering in the air is not the usual method."

Geir's gaze takes in the amount of wood the bronze-scale has brought back, and snorts. "Warrior, you have outdone yourself. Such a selection will definitely be met with approval. And a demonstration of your strength may arouse the interest of other prospective mothers."

"That is for the nest mothers? They will certainly appreciate that, I heard from them and saw that Vaera is doing many things for them in regards to furnishings. That is kind of you to offer to help, Skielstregar." She replies, grinning with a sharp-toothed smile and patting him on the shoulder, only to find herself embarassed further. "It is, ah, it is not a big deal, do not worry about it, please." She adds quietly. "This one, does not have many friends who are males, save for Shaman Geir, is all."

The comment from Geir makes the cleric snort, and break out into a low, rumbling chuckle for a long moment.

"Well, this one cannot be around them, so this is the best way this one can help," Skiel grins, hands on his hips. "Vaera is helping quite a lot, this one brought it for her so she can carve things for the-"

The comment from Geir makes his words die out, and his jaw snaps shut with a light >click<. The makari had no scents, but he covers his snout with a hand and murmurs, "... ah.. well. Uh... this one would be flattered if that were to be the case..."

Rubbing at his face, he eyes Seyardu for a moment. His overconfidence was brought low in a fell swoop. "You have three," he holds up three talons. Gives a sly wink, then settles onto his back foot, trying to get over his embarrassment by rubbing his neck.

The copper-scale's gaze goes from one embarrassed Sith to the other, and back again, before he snorts and chuckles.

"So you are less embarrassed in asking this one, over asking your brother? This one finds this intriguing."

Glancing to Skielstregar then, the corners of his mouth curl upward. "Oh yes. One will find that one is pleasing to a prospective mother, for some, unknown reason." Geir winks, very obviously, at Skiel. "It is a msytery, but eggs keep appearing, and younglings emerge from such eggs. How the eggs get there..." The copper-scale shrugs his shoulders.

With the chuckling dying down, Seyardu wipes at her eyes, and shakes her head. "I have three, yes." She agrees, using it as a chance to give the bronze makari a hug. "But ah, in this case, I can not ask one of them, so Geir would be the one to talk to. That being said, another time, yes."

She chuffs at Geir's words, and nods. "Yes, you over sell how you come across to others in Mictlan, Skielstregar. After all, scars and muscles are a sign of strength, are they not?"

Skiel sighs deeply, shaking his head as he reflexively wraps an arm around Seyardu. An easy feat, considering how much larger he was than her. He pats her on the back, holding it for a strong moment before pulling away to stand beside her.

He blinks, him putting a hand over his eyes and looking away. "A-ah, uh..... this..... this one thanks you for the kind... w-words Geir..." Whatever was keeping the scents off him was surely working overtime.

And now Seyardu was in on it?! "....................... yes..." he mumbles, properly embarrassed.

"Muscles certainly. Scars... this one is not sure if scars are a sign of strength." Geir chuckles. "However, this one has heard a saying among the soft-skins. Pain fades, wounds heal, and ladies dig scars. This one is not sure of the veracity of such a saying, it is difficult at times to understand when they are poking fun at this one."

"Scars are a sign of strength, Geir." Seyardu chuckles, reaching to pat Skielstregar on a shoulder before she takes a seat down by the fire. "If you were not felled by an injury strong enough to leave a wound, it is a reminder of what can be overcome. And, I have heard that saying in town before, too. I have heard that saying too. I believe it to be true, as one of my best friends has numerous scars, and her girlfriend is a wonderful person."

"So, you met my brother before, Geir? It seems I did not realize they were in Mictlan for some time. I was going to show him the city soon."

Skielstregar, for as large and imposing of a man as he is, holds onto a forearm with a hand and looks off to the ground somewhere. ".... ah, well. The softskins tend to be right on some things. Their wisdom is to be considered. So, if it is true, then the 'lay-dees' may enjoy them. From a distance."

He clears his throat, nodding at Seyardu. "Yes, scars are like that. For the most part."

He glances to Geir. "... we have met before, yes," Skiel mentions simply. Remembering the time they met was... tense.

"Some in the warrior caste might disagree, in the belief that if someone is able to scar you, perhaps your combat capability is suspect." The copper-scale shrugs nonchalantly. "This one is not of that opinion, however." Geir nods in reply to Seyardu's next question. "This one believes he had met him before you mentioned finding him, though you had mentioned that you'd found him, previously. Now one and one have been summed."

The copper-scale slowly stands, and stretches at length. "Indeed. It was a cautious meeting, was it not? This one did not mean to be so... dour. This one's training is .. unbending in some places." Geir steps towards Skielstregar, and slowly, offers the warrior caste a clap on the shoulder. "This one has an early day, tomorrow, and so must retire to bed. Peace on your nests, if it please you, enjoy the remains of my fire."

He turns then, and ducks into his tent.

"Well, I am glad that things seem to have resolved between you two. Skielstregar is really a wonderful person, and I would not like there to be distance between the two of you." Seyardu chuckles, smiling at Geir and Skielstregar in turn. "Peace on your nest Geir, it was good to see you."

She then turns to Skielstregar, and waves them over. The smile vanishes somewhat. "Speaking of distance, you mentioned that. Why do you not wish for any to get close to you, Skielstregar?" She asks, growing concerned in mannerisms and scent.

Skielstregar lightly smiles. "Different Warriors view it differently. This one views it as strength." He returns the clap on the shoulder with one of his own. "This one forgives you. Rest well. We will be out of your scales shortly once your fire withers out. Peace on your nest."

Watching the man clamber into his tent, the warrior gives a long sigh and ambles over to be closer to his sister. He raises a brow. "Get close to me...? Oh! Uh, this one..." Another sigh, him putting a hand to his face as frozen air filters through his fingers. "... this one is /aware/ of their strength, but this one does not desire anything more than friends at this present time. Not until this one has this-" he taps a fang, "-more under control. It is nothing to worry about."

"Ah, yes, that is what I meant. You got quite embarassed by all of Geir's talk." Seyardu chuckles, reaching to press a knuckle into one of the bronzescale's legs gently. "But, I understand that. I want to help you sort that out. But, I can not help but wonder your reasoning. I still like being around you, after all."

The rib on the leg is met with a large tail sweeping to the side to carefully bump against Seyardu's frame. Well aware of his strength, its just a light tap. "This one was flattered, that is all..." he coughs. "But, this one desires friends! Bring them all in, gather them around, this one does not mind!" Skiel smiles down at Seyardu. "This one just does not desire... ah..."

He rolls a hand in the air, looking for the word.

"... something like you and Hunter Sjach have at this present moment in time. There is nothing to sort out, sister. It is already sorted."

GAME: Seyardu rolls 1d20+8+2: (20)+8+2: 30

Seyardu chuffs when the tail bats against her, and in a sudden movement the cleric twists around to grab it, grappling with it until it was hugged tightly to her chest. The silver cleric rumbles in triumph, but it peters off into a long chuckle, with a touch of embarassment. "Ah, perhaps it is a projection of how happy I have felt to put it on you, Skielstregar. But yes, friends are wonderful! You should find and make some more, truly, as I would like to see you meeting more people." She states, letting her tail sway back and forth behind her.

GAME: Skielstregar rolls cmb: (20)+7: 27

There is a moment of an honest, dumbfound expression on Skiel's visage. Then just as quick as it came, the man is scrabbling to stay upright. The warrior is a large man, and his tail equally so. With it grabbed, his center of balance was all sorts of whack. "Ack!" he sputters, stumbling a bit as the silver band on his large tail lightly clinks against Seyadu's scales.

He playfully pouts, crossing his arms as the smaller makari has effectively subdued the warrior. "Perhaps. But... this one does desire more friends. They haven't many. Aside from Vaera and you. Maybe Shaman Un'eth."

There's a moment where he pauses. Then drops his stance low and twists his hips. That large tail was still a massive muscle, and the shaman is swooped around the warrior, ending up in a vice like hug from behind. The man laughs aloud, grinning victoriously to himself.

"What about Geir? Shaman Geir is very nice." Seyardu chuckles, hugging the tail tightly, spinning the bangle around on his tail once. "This is very pretty, it looks nice on you Skielstregar."

Before she can say more, the cleric is sent swinging, much smaller in stature and clinging for dear life. Only to be swept up into a hug that she can not escape from.

"I suppose this is only fair." The cleric sighs in defeat.

"This one has only spoken with Geir twice. Acquaintances would be an apt description for us," Skielstregar rumbles, the tone felt more than heard. He reaches up and rubs the top of Seyardu's head before giving a firm squeeze in the hug and releasing her. "And, perhaps, Warrior Paenitia. We have worked together a number of times."

"And thank you, Vaera got it for me," he adds, his tail swishing once.

"And I am saying try to be friends! If you want to, that is. He's a nice shaman." The cleric pouts before she is relinquished and can turn back to face him. "Dame Paenitia is a friend of mine as well, she is always interesting to be around. Or you could meet Thurid, or Braelnoir! I imagine you would like both of them, too. They are both warriors like yourself, but Thurid is a cleric of Angoron."

Skiel's smile grows some. "Ah, this one has yet two meet either of them, but would certainly like to meet fellow warriors! And one that follows him would certainly be most strong!"

He leans in some, inspecting Seyardu for a moment before grunting to himself in affirmation. "Sister. Something within you has changed," he points out, a proud twinkle in his eyes. "You seem relaxed, and stronger. Even more so than last we spoke. What is it that you have been up to? What challenges has this one's little silver overcome and conquered?"

Out of the cold mists, a small figure slowly advances. The Gnome, clad in leather armor, and bearing bright orange hair, rides atop a gigantic rhinoceros beetle. It moves along at a relaxed pace. The pair are aimed directly at Mictlan.

"What I have been up to? I would not wish to worry you, but by doing so, that would be worse." Seyardu sighs. "I am feeling better, as there is much less on my mind these days. There is no demon duke hiding in the shadows, the ashwings are all sent back to the lower planes, for how long, I can not say. I can sleep with a bit less concern about what is going on."

"And, I came back from a trip to Veyshan, where all manner of bizarre things happened."

The appearance of a gnome coming to Mictlan was strange, however. She looks over, one brow raised before she offers them a wave. "Insects are not normally that large, even in Am'shere,are they?"

Skielstregar squints some, him tilting his head to the side. "This one sees...." he rumbles. "Were you one to send these... creatures, back to their home...? And a bizarre trip? Aren't you busy..." he chuckles, turning to see where she was looking.

The half dead makari man blinks, and waves in return. "... no, they aren't..."

The beetle changes course, ever so slightly, angling towards the two waving Sith.

"Peace on your nests.", the Gnome says cheerfully, with a broad grin. "The mists have returned, along with the cold. You are lucky to have the great wards of the Dragon to keep this place warm and comfortable for your People."

"Only the ashwings, the duke would be too much for myself and most others. It was all I could do just to live with the effects of them being around." The cleric notes, shaking their head. "And I am busy, but I have time to go to various tasks. Cryosanthia has others who can assist her when I am not around, that is the idea."

Her attention is turned back to the newcomer, and she nods. "Yes, I believe this is what it is supposed to be like when winter is coming, yes? It is a boon that the area here remains a warm temperature, as there are no buildings made for the snow. I am Seyardu, and the one here with me is my brother Skielstregar." She offers in greeting, switching back to the common tongue. <Draconic>

The bronze scale blinks at Seyardu, a grin cracking his face, showing off his fangs. Something about that gave the look that he certainly will be teasing her about something or another later.

Clearing his throat, he switches his tongue. "Peassse on your nesst," the towering makari politely greets. He bobs his head as he is greeted, his tail swishing once. "It isss certainly a boon, though, thisss one must admit, they enjoy the cold that comesss in quite ssso. To whom do we have the pleasure ssspeaking with?"

At some unknown signal, the beetle slows, and then stops. It lowers itself to the ground, and the Gnome slips off to the ground. "I am Tawyse. She offers up a hand to Skielstregar. "A pleasure to meet you!"

"Peace on your nest Tawyse." Seyardu offers in return, allowing herself to smile to the gnome as she steps back to let the two shake hands. "I do not mean this in a bad way, merely curiosity. What brings you to mictlan? It is rare that non makari venture out this way, and into the encampment proper. Do you need something, perhaps?"

Skiel blinks some, him rubbing his neck as he has to plant a knee into the ground to reach down. Taking the hand with a forefinger and his thumb, he gives it a careful shake, ensuring his too long talons don't scrape anything. "Pleasure to meet you, Tawysssse."

Tawyse shakes the offered forefinger and thumb a few times carefully, before she turns and offers the same hand to Seyardu. "And it's nice to meet you." She cants her head to one side, peering up at the silver-scale curiously. "Well, I am a drood. I tend to the Great Tree, and the forest surrounding her." The Gnome gestures with her other hand at the forest surrounding Mictlan. "That forest. I make regular trips here to speak with the other shamans. I also have friends here among the People."

"Ah! I am a shaman, yes, but I am not a druid. I have heard of the great tree, but I do not travel out that way myself, most of the shaman gather themselves, and I trust them with their own matters." Seyardu speaks up with a nod, taking the hand with much less effort than Skielstregar, but still needing to crouch some. "You have friends among the people? Perhaps I know some who you speak of, perhaps. Were you looking for any in particular?"

Skiel rises to his feet once more. But he hunches some, a habit to not be looming over the shorter folk. "Thisss one sssees. Thisss one isss a warrior of the people. Keeping them sssafe when need be. But, mostly jussst gathering wood for the cooking fires as of now." He rumbles a chuckle. "Yess, what friendsss have you?"

As with Skiel, the Gnome shakes with Seyardu carefully, mindful of finger claws. Her eyes narrow slightly, "Is there some problem?", she wonders? "I know Svarshan, Paladin of the All-Father, and hunter caste. And Chay, also hunter caste. Then there is Sjach, too a hunter caste. Not surprising, since all of them roam, or did roam, the area around Mictlan, and even into the city of Alexandria."

Seyardu blinks, and shakes her head quickly. "No, no problems. Just curious, if there is anything I can do to help. It is a bit of a habit of mine." She states after that.

"Svarshan, I have heard the name before, he seems to have been a great warrior, I hope some day I will meet them, from how everyone speaks of him. Chay, I do not believe I have met, either." She continues, though, she freezes up, and looks to the tent. "Sjach, Sjach is a friend of mine, I do not know if they have mentioned me at all."

Skiel shakes his head. "No problemsss here," he lightly smiles. Though, none of the names cross his recognition except for-

He blinks, then looks to Seyardu with a smirk and a hand on his hip. "Yesss, thisss one knowss of Sssjach," he rumbles, the smirk turning into a cheeky grin.

"Truth be told, I have not been here in some time. Some seasons since I have last seen the inside of Mictlan's bones.", the Gnome says, playing with her hair, and pulling an errant leaf from it.

"Is Sjach doing well? He and I were close, once upon a time."

Tawyse looks at Skielstregar then, "Oh? Good friends, I take it?" Looking back to Seyardu, "No, he never mentioned you. But it could be that you two did not yet know each other."

Seyardu looks to the grin, and she just chuffs and hangs her head in embarrassment. "Well, a friend of the people is welcome when they wish." She states once she raises her head back up. "I should ask him about you sometime, then, or meet him with you. But ah, yes, good friends, I guess you could say. He is doing well, the swiftclaw he is caring for, little Flame, is as well. Perhaps, if you have been around for longer. It has been many months since I came here, but not long, when thought about."

Skielstregar winks back at Seyardu before patting her on the shoulder and looking down towards the gnome. "Thisss one hasss only met this onssse before. Yet did not have the pleasure of time to converssse."

The Gnome's eyes light up. "Oh, his swiftclaw. She was always so energetic. She loved rabbits, and would chase them. Sjach always had to work hard to make her behave." Taw laughs then. "Watching him try to bath her always make me laugh." She rubs at her chin. "I also know Cryosanthia, speaker caste, and her adopted child, Li'l Fang."

She glances at Skielstregar, and nods. "Ah, I see. So you are both here recently? This is good! Are you dealing with Winter okay? I know it can be quite a shock, coming from Am'shere's heat and humidity, to feel the dry cold sapping at your strength."

"Ah, yes, Little Fang is still a handful. Well, they are no longer a handful any more, they have grown up quite a bit." Seyardu chuckles. "But still they are full of energy, and it takes a lot of work to care for them. Sjach has been working with training them, and they seem to have taken to it well."

The cleric perks up at the two names, and she smiles. "Ah, Cryosanthia! She is a friend of mine, as is Little Fang. They are both doing well, though they are staying in Mictlan these days. You should stop by and visit her. She is preparing for a nest, along with the other mothers. As for the weather? I am not sure, the cold does not bother me much due to my blood, but, it is so strange! Everything is so hard to see with how white it makes things, covering everything. And the ground is dangerous, with how icy it becomes. But I am looking forward to it! I was looking forward to having these fights with snow people seem to have."

Skielstregar tilts his head to the side slightly, watching at the gnome for a moment as she goes on about Sjach. He rubs his chin in thought, but soon bobs his head. "Thisss one is aware of the ssspeaker as well. Thiss one has helped fetch items for her nesst. And they helped find this one to meet their sssister after many years apart."

The man shakes his head, grinning. "Oh, no, thissss one hasss experiencessed some wintersss before. They have no been in Am'shere for sssome time sssave for the bout to keep nessst suppliesss. Thisss one lovesss the winter. It... er... may not look it, but thisss one is actually a silverscale like their ssssister. Waking up in the sssnow isss a wonderful feeling."

"Oh. Sssorry, yesss, thisss one just got here thisss summer," he adds as an afterthought, realizing he didn't answer the question.

"It's good to know that Little Flame is growing up, hopefully she'll be big enough for Sjach to ride." Tawyse nods then, "I had heard elsewhere that she was with child. I am sure Li'l Fang will be happy to have siblings." She cants her head slightly. "Ah, I suppose then you may have inherited a silver dragon's blood, then? I have heard that they live in very cold places."

She glances at Skielstregar, and nods. "I uhm, suspected that maybe you had uhm, a skin condition. I didn't want to focus on it, in case it was a touchy subject for you." The Gnome laughs then. "I can show you a few of my camps, if you like, you could wake up after a snowfall and have a good roll in the stuff."

"Yes, she seems to be handling it quite well. I am sure she will enjoy being a big sister, for how long that lasts. And then remaining so in spirit and meaning." Seyardu chuckles. "Myself, I managed to be the little sister in both meanings of the word, it is quite unfortunate. And yes! We both have silver dragon blood, which provides some protection from the cold. It is, not particularly of use in Am'shere."

The offer gets her attention, and the she looks to the gnome curiously. "You like to roll in the snow? I thought it was too cold for most to handle. But that sounds like it would be interesting, yes!"

Skiel clears his throat. "... yesss... a... skin condition is one way to put it," he slowly says, but smiles through it. "Thisss one ssstays in a friend'sss camp outssside of the protection of the Dragonsss and hass awoken to sssnow plenty of timesss."

His brows raise, him tapping a too long claw to his chin as Seyardu finds interest in it. "... thisss, thisss one is interesssted in such as well..." he rumbles quietly, pensive.

Skielstregar also pats Seyardu on the head at the mention of being little with a grin.

"Li'l Fang will make an adorable big sister." Tawyse makes a point of peering up at Seyardu, and then glaces at Skiel, before looking back. "Well, you may be smaller than him, but you still make me feel stumpy and short." She chuckles then and shakes her head. "I like to play in the snow, but not necessarily roll in it. I do like Winter camping, and when there's enough snow, I go sledding. Chaucy... that's my beetle over there... he likes to hibernate in the winter, so I have a couple of sled dogs. They pull me around, and sometimes we go up some of the big hills, and then we all ride down in the sled. Great fun!"

The Gnome grins at Skiel, "And with you being a warrior cast, I think you might enjoy a bit of winter hunting, yes? We could find boar and have great eating over a big campire." She looks between the two, "So yeah, I can show you a place or two that I have set up. It's uhm a little cramped for you, but I think you'll find it cosy. I hope."

Looking back to Skielstregar, and slowly reaches up to one of his forearms, lightly touching the scales, and bite marks. "It is interesting, if you don't mind talking about it some day, I'd like to hear how it came about? If that's not to nosy to ask?"

"It is relative, I suppose. But that being said, I do not know average heights for gnomes. But when everyone of my people seem to be taller, I can not help but feel short." Seyardu laughs, listening to the gnome explaining the joys of winter. "Chaucy, I have never seen a beetle that size. But that all sounds wonderful! It would be good to go out and experience winter as you say. If it is not big enough, I can set up another tent or something. Assuming you do not have anything to do today, Skielstregar? After you deliver the wood to the nest mothers, that is."

She looks to the scales pointed out, and nods. "It is a story, but it is his choice whether he wishes to share or not."

The Warrior gives a light shrug. "Thisss one can hunt, and enjoys it on occasion. A boar sounds grand, as bacon is delicious," he grins. "Thisss one would be glad to sssee your campsss and sshare words. Thisss one hasss seen sled dogsss before. It isss interesting to sssee. Though, thisss one thinks you need not many dogsss for you."

It's at that exact moment when the gnomish hand touches an arm, she could tell something was off. The skin was stiff and cold. The scales were jagged and somewhat flaky. He subtly moves his arm away, using the movement to adjust the Dragonfather symbol on his necklace. "It isss... a story, and not a nice one."

He clears his throat, and looks between his sister and Tawyse. "Uh... oh! Right! Thisss one has to go do that, Vaera is expecting it!" he suddenly says, slapping his forehead. "Thisss one can go, they jussst need to deliver thisss! Nice to meet you, peace on your nessst!"

Filled with a purpose, the tarnished scale makari goes over to the sled that has a literal ton of wooden logs on it. Picking up one rope, then another, both are pulled over his shoulders as he leans forward.

Large muscles bulge, frozen air vents from his nostrils, and slowly the Skiel train starts in motion. Desitnation: the nesting grounds.