"I met a bard, vunce, ven I fisit Orlais," Hilda noted, bobbing her head and smiling at Imenry's compliments. "I learn moch from heem, bot I cannot say if he liff up to der tales of his kind. Skalds," and here she stood a bit straighter, smiled a bit broader, her tone more proud, but not in the arrogant way, more proud of the accomplishments of her people, "are valking heestories. Ve haff no books in der highest parts of Anderfels, hyu know. Der snow mekk paper mold und rot. So, ve haff der skaldic tradition - men und vimmen of strong mind und stout heart, who keep der records, der stories und tales, der sagas und kennings, in here," she tapped her temple, then thumped her fist to her chest, "und in here." Then Imenry's query about Gunnarr, and she shook her head, her smile losing some of its light. "Ho, dot it ver so. I am on my own jornyman-qvest, is true, bot I deed no come to fight a Blightwar as Gunnarr did. I came to find out vot heppen to mein brother, Albrecht. He dedicate efferyting he is to der Chantry, to Andraste, und ven he die the Chantry vould no tell us how or vy. So I come, to find out, to add his life-kenning to der records."
Hilda had loved ones waiting for her back home, it was true; but Albrecht too was waiting for her, somewhere in Ferelden, yearning for what remained of his flesh to be rejoined with the bones of the mountains. The skald had already decided that if she found him whole, she would cremate him - his Andraste, whom he loved as a mortal woman, would have wanted it so - and bear his ashes back to the Anderfels, to bury them in the earthen grieving-yard. She only hoped she could do so, and discover how such a brave man came to fall in battle.
Speaking of the banya was a lighter topic, at least, and one she nodded for. "I tink smokehouse for meat vould no be difficult to change into banya. Eef ve find vun abandoned, hyu most geef it try."
For Imenry's sadness, however, she had the utmost respect and support, putting a hand on the other woman's shoulder to show her solidarity. Hilda's people did not believe in the Chantry's version of the Fade, where people died and passed into the light and never existed or were seen again; they believed instead in Valhalla, in golden halls were the worthy and the brave would live forever. To have produced a woman of such strength of character as Imenry Barras, her parents must have been sterling examples of courage and worth, in Hilda's opinion. "Is no knowledge dot is no wort' haffing," said the skald sagely, squeezing Imenry's shoulder and letting the subject go. "Und who knows, perhaps someday ven all dees is offer, hyu tetch a little girl of hyu own how to cook." That brought the smile back full force, because the mental images of Imenry and a smaller version of herself elbow to elbow were quite adorable ones, even if they were butchering a deer at the time.