[open] i trust my life to ghosts, any

[Nashua]

The cold is there to meet him, burning down his throat and stinging against his emerald eyes. It emerges from his pale nostrils in thin wisps of silver smoke, dancing on the artic wind and floating past him as the pegasus turns to consider his companion. There had been something structured in her countenance before, as if the very ice that cracked her skin kept so much of her frozen in place. This wild part of the Isle is not one of the usual haunts - needing to be available to his family in Taiga and the needs of Nerine usually kept him closer to the southern shore - but its gleaming ferocity always garners admiration from the winged brute.

Out here, only those able to withstand the cold survive and the brutality of this place leaves little room for anything else.

Something about the wild North seems to thaw Camellia's demeanor a little, and something softens in Nashua's polite expression. He is a Northerner through and through, and deeply proud of his home - from the craggy coastline of Nerine, to the impossible heights of the Taigan trees, to even this place; this edge of the world that gleams and shines and retains so little of the warmth that the rest of Beqanna seems to hold.

Camellia doesn't seem to mind, though, and her reaction bolsters his Northern-born pride.

"Plenty of places," the Freyr confides in her with a grin that starts to tug towards one side. "There is a whole world out there to find," and some of his wanderlust comes sparking to his emerald eyes before Nashua reminds himself that his place is here, that this is where his obligations lie. He isn't entirely sure where Camellia comes from, but having his family divided and broken apart, he knows what it is to ache for something out of reach.

"Will this suit?" he quietly asks, breaking the crisp silence settling between them.

@camellia