Imenry seemed thoughtful for a moment, as if trying to comprehend that someone's father could do something other than be a guardian at the Temple. Of course she knew that other men in the village were hunters or guards or craftsmen and the like... she she'd always equated all fathers with her father. After all, he was the best Daddy anywhere so who wouldn't want to be like him. But she seemed to accept Brennan's words, and nodded slowly.
"Is he hunting now?" There were different units of hunters and each one would go out for long stretches of time, but spend most of the year at home with their families. It was rotated so that the hunters weren't gone too often as it could take weeks and up to a month for enough game to be found for the village.
Hunters had to be skilled at not only killing but in butchering the meat, in using every bit of the animal for some purpose. All of it would be brought back to the village; cuts of meat, sausages, innards, skins, even hooves and antlers if they were lucky enough to get a goat or a mountain dwelling deer. The meat could lure predators too, so they had to know how to fend off wolves and the spotted white cats that prowled the mountains. All of this, Imenry was not aware of, but she knew it was an important job.
But it was Brennan's second disclosure that had her mouth dropping in amazement. She lunged forward, grabbing his gloved hands and examining them in her own. Then she furrowed her brow. "Where's your magic?" she asked curiously. Her father spoke of the mages, said they made magic from their hands, like fire and lightning, and even healing. But she'd never seen one make magic.