winter’s hardships had blessedly not taken their toll on the man. splitting his time between glorall and the loner lands meant that food, however scarce, was always available - if one knew where to look and was ready to put in the effort. to many, the effort to make a kill versus the fruit of labor was a waste of time. to nathaniel’s calculating mind, scaling the craigs after skittish prey was just another piece of the puzzle that was survival. the survival of his children through the roughest winter of their short existence weighed heavily on the man’s mind, only serving to spur his search for them to new heights.

it was that search for his sons that had brought him into this situation. cautious eyes watched as the woman shot upright, clumsy and slower than any startled predator he’s ever seen. the growl that fills the cavern as he speaks is low and weak - a voice not used often, then? dark ears twitch forward to catch the woman’s rasped words: ”This is my home, what are you doing here?” they are sharp, used as both sword and shield, tone haughty and prideful. it is the contrast of her words and the pitiful frame that bristles before him that evokes sympathy from nathaniel, thoughts turning towards aurelia - her words had been venomous for all the pain and uncertainty he had seen in her two-toned eyes. he observes the way she flinches into the wall at her side and takes a few measured steps away from the mouth of the den, giving her plenty of space to run if she so desired. nathaniel is, admittedly, not a generous nor unendingly kind man, but the desire to help this poor woman crashes over him. he can smell a child on her, though no one else and he thinks back to when he had been raising two pups on his own.

”like i said, i’m quite sorry for the intrusion, i did not realize anyone lived here,” he replied, tone sincere. after a moment of pause, in which he decides to help her and almost immediately regrets said decision (after all, what woman would trust a complete stranger twice her size?). ”i was looking for one of my children, a boy by the name of brann.” the words stick to the inside of his throat and then he shifts, a little uncomfortable. he is complaisant to his gut instinct and adds, ”i mean no offence, ma’am, but i cannot help but notice your poor condition. would you mind terribly if i assisted you in your next hunt? it would be hell on my concious to leave a lady in your shape uncared for.” he falls silent, keen eyes watching the outline of her face in the dim light, hoping dearly that he had not overstepped any social lines by speaking so openly of her poor condition.