Hello Echo

Poem took a drink of the mead that was offered and the big man smiled, knowing the warmth that would flood through her. He couldn't remember his first drink of mead, but he did know that it still warmed him on cold nights. Which, in the north, all nights were cold. It was difficult to get enough honey and fruit that far north too, so mead was a precious commodity. A commodity which he hadn't shared when he was younger. Now that he was a different man, he spread his mead far and wide.

The woman confessed to being a little far from home and that she was on the search for clay for her grandmother. Hunting for claw was interesting. "Your babushka, she makes the pots? I need pots. Biiiig, big pots!" It had been a long while since Sparhawk had made mead. It wasn't the season to craft, but spring would be on their doorstep soon. He could collect honey and fresh fruit and brew a mighty drink. In fact... that was part of the reason that he was meandering in a southerly direction. The red and charcoal man tilted his head slightly. "I help you look for clay while we wait for the storm to stop howling." It would keep them both busy.

Sparhawk noted the girl's reaction when he complimented her. He also smelled the rich scent of her heat, but he was gentleman and wouldn't push or act like a hound. Poem said that they sounded good together and the man grinned. "We do. We should sing together again." Dark ears flicked forward. "You teach me a song from your tongue. I teach you a song from mine, yeah?" He shrugged. "Or we just sing without words. No words is fine too." Taking a drink from the skein, he passed it back to Poem before settling down upon his stomach. Closing his red eyes, the big man began to hum merrily in his deep, baritone voice.