Lukas, demanding? Hilda laughed at the question. "Und stobborn as der mountains. It tekk a voman like mein mother, mit vill of tempered steel, to hold a son like dot. Of course," smiled the skald, her expression bright as a noonday sun even as they sat together in the firelight, "he is jost like our father, und Mama has had near tree decades to hold heem." A very large and loving family, yes. If Imenry ever visited, she would most likely be held as dear as a sister among the clan that Hilda hailed from, if her siblings and parents were anything like the skald.
Talk of the Avvar and the Dalish, and the Chasind, seemed to draw her attention like nothing else; her hands stilled their work as Imenry spoke, the blonde Anderfeln woman utterly fascinated by even such a brief snippet of story. If there was one thing Hilda excelled at, it was making her conversation partners feel as if nothing else mattered in the world but the cadence of their words. When Imenry promised to elaborate further on the Chasind - and the Templar, which pinged on Hilda's need to gather information on her brother's called craft - she nodded and laughed again. "I vill hold hyu to eet! Is der beginning of a kenning, I tink, dot tale. I vould like ferry moch to hear eet, ven ve haff der time."
As Imenry turned her hands to tasks she knew better than the skald did, Hilda hung the backstraps over the fire to roast, their impromptu gridded spit of sharpened sticks supporting the meat and catching some of the smoke wafting from Imenry's sausages. She washed her hands of blood and gristle as she considered the mountain-woman's question; did she want Ordhan to court her? "Ja," she said, yearningly, as if she spoke of a thing that could never be. So many stories of romance and love, either united or forever sundered by capricious wyrd, and though she was no mooncalf like her sister Sanja, some womanly part of her yet wished for such, such.... frivolousness. Yes, that was the word. In an existence defined by practicality and pragmatism, the little girl she had been when first she heard of her parents' courtship wanted something like that for herself. This she shared with Imenry, saying, "Mein father, ven he see mein mother for der first time - she vos a vild ting. Forbidden, a witch-aetheling. He alvays say to me dot he felt his wyrd upon his head dot day, dot he luff her as soon as hees eyes met hers. He go tru menny trials to vin her heart, und all of us, ve grow up hearing dese tales. Is no surprise," she sighed now, shaking her head ever so slightly as if to remind herself of the weight of the present and the problems facing them all, "dot ve desire soch tings for ourselfs. "
Back to the subject that lay before them - Imenry, and her outward facade of untouchability. Hilda smiled and dried her hands with a clean rag, taking Imenry's compliment with a happy nod before returning one of her own. "Courage, eet komm easy to some. Hyu are a brafe person, Imenry Barras, and I am honored to haff met hyu und call hyu friend. Ennyvun who does not feel the same - pah!" She dashed her hands together to underline the word, grinning and laughing as she did so. "Hyu should no trouble hyurself mit der totts. Respect most be earned, ja? Und hyu geef vere is due. Is visdom, in dot."