"Someone who worships the seasons an' nature, an' cares more for them than for other people," Tal said darkly, oblivious to if her question was rhetorical. In his mind's eye were Halo's cultists who worshiped Deepfrost and its personification, with their bloody rituals and robes and masks... and bloodier knives. "An' I'm not pretendin' about anything."
He scowled, no more socially adept than the person in the mask, alas, but equal parts curious and wary he followed a little further until the dry hill came into view. There was a certain appeal to drying out his socks, and he chewed his lip fiercely for a moment before giving a slow nod. "Alright..." A reluctant agreement, but one thing Halovians knew was the care and tending of flame.
Tal looked dubiously at the mud and the damp and then snagged a flat stone to scrape dry and use as a base. From his pack came a handful of wood shavings and ningo feathers for the kindling, and from an outer pocket he pulled a carefully-insulated thick-walled ceramic pot. He carefully selected the smallest ember from inside the firepot with a small pair of tongs and touched it to the kindling, patiently feeding it small scraps and twigs while Chaele prepared the fire ring.
Once, he grinned fiercely for a brief second before ducking his head back to his task, in an inexplicably more cheerful frame of mind.
He scowled, no more socially adept than the person in the mask, alas, but equal parts curious and wary he followed a little further until the dry hill came into view. There was a certain appeal to drying out his socks, and he chewed his lip fiercely for a moment before giving a slow nod. "Alright..." A reluctant agreement, but one thing Halovians knew was the care and tending of flame.
Tal looked dubiously at the mud and the damp and then snagged a flat stone to scrape dry and use as a base. From his pack came a handful of wood shavings and ningo feathers for the kindling, and from an outer pocket he pulled a carefully-insulated thick-walled ceramic pot. He carefully selected the smallest ember from inside the firepot with a small pair of tongs and touched it to the kindling, patiently feeding it small scraps and twigs while Chaele prepared the fire ring.
Once, he grinned fiercely for a brief second before ducking his head back to his task, in an inexplicably more cheerful frame of mind.