Talk of dead bodies, even dead shattered frozen bodies, did not bother Firekeeper. She'd seen frozen bodies before, though usually not human.
She looked down at her hands; indeed they were blue-ish under her perpetually tanned and scarred skin, and blotched with cold. It wasn't anything she hadn't seen before. "When I was very young," she said, her husky voice quiet and thoughtful, "was worst winter ever. Am fat now to how I was then. Furless. Skins not hold together well. Pack could barely keep warm or fed. Of yearling pups, only one live. But I survive. Can survive any winter after that." She wondered at herself momentarily, since it wasn't her habit to speak to strangers of such personal things. But his hair reminded her of Derian, and she missed her friend, and she supposed that was enough.
And it would be stupid not to take what was offered to her. "I ask," she said abruptly, tapping Blind Seer awake. "We've been offered shelter," she told him. "Have you scented anything peculiar about this man?"
"Nothing alarming," he said. "I confess that I may have grown soft in my time with the two-legs, for I would not mind a roof over my head."
"For once," she teased, ruffling his fur. "And if you are soft, then I am softer. For all my boasting, I would welcome real warmth. No offense, sweet hunter."
"None taken, dear heart," he said, nipping her lightly on the arm.
"If no trouble, we not say no," she told the man. "Am Firekeeper." If he was kind enough to permit she and Blind Seer use of his house, he deserved to know her real name, her wolf name. "Is Blind Seer." She frowned thoughtfully. "You?"