Alistair smiles a little at her smile. Their traditions were different from the ones they had on the surface, and while that was amusement enough, seeing her smile was enough to draw one of his own by reflex.
"I've never seen them myself," he admits. "But there's a festival the night before. One around a huge bonfire in the market square. There's dancing and all, and the next day there's feasting. All day, until night. And when it's dark, there's fireworks that light up the sky so brightly, you'd think it were day."
It seems Alistair's doing some reminiscing of his own.
"I was told about it once. When Cailan came." A beat. "Not by him, anyway," he quickly adds. His half-brother had barely exchanged a word with him before running off to the armory to admire their forger's handiwork.