Imenry walked alongside Hilda, her own expression turning to one of amusement for a moment at the words Peeping Tuomas. She stifled a laugh, the firelight from the camp ahead casting through the trees and flickering over the faces of both women as they walked side by side. “You made him stand naked in the snow? I’m sure that would discourage peeping pretty quickly.” She laughed again and shook her head. “We had no springs in my village. Baths were short and merely for the purpose of getting clean. Water heated over the fire only holds its warmth so long in conditions that cold. I suppose that’s why I don’t balk at the idea of bathing in a river or stream.” It was well known that both bodies of water were often fast moving and cold, sourcing from the melting snows of such mountains like those the women themselves hailed from.
As she listened to Hilda explain the witch-tribes and the beliefs of her people she tried to absorb it all and understand such a place. Hilda herself was almost an amalgamation of different worlds and traditions; some of them older than others. She tried to remember her own people’s tales, where they had come from, the beliefs they had held before the dragon had shaped their way of life. “Nomads… yes. My people were once nomads themselves. It’s told that they traveled very far from the mountains where they were born and left many of their old ways behind. Not everything though. Their gods used to be animal spirits, similar to those of the elves, I think. That respect for life and the balance of the world helped them to live in such a harsh environment. Knowledge and stories were always important to share, to pass down to the young."
As for what Hilda said of fate and one’s path in life, Imenry was not sure to think. It was something worth considering perhaps. Fate had never really been something she’d even thought about. In her life she had always done what she needed to do in order to live. In the village it had been hunting, trapping, guarding her people and keeping their traditions alive. When that had changed she had left all that remained behind and taken steps to survive in other ways. Often she wondered if she had really been living these past two years at all, and she had begun to doubt that she had handled things correctly. But the steps she’d taken had led her to Signy, to the Grey Wardens and here to this place. Who was she to say that this had not truly been her fate all along?
“I would say, it seems better perhaps, to be ignorant of one’s fate. If a man knows he will die tomorrow what is it that makes him get out of bed and strive to do something? Likewise, if he knew his family would be killed, if he fought with all his might to save them, would he be unable to? That seems like a horrible thought. Had I known what would have happened to my village, would I have been able to stop it? I suppose thinking of what ifs is rather pointless in itself though.”