As she stops, so does he, turning back to her. His focus on her is very intent and there is a renewed tension in his face as he regards her, both hands coming to grip his staff to rest there.

"It's only good that you lived," he says, with the quiet emphasis of someone who very much wishes to impress what he's saying on another person. They are standing at a respectable distance, but the quiet of the snow-filled forest means that even someone mildly spoken can be heard clearly, precisely. "That you survived is good, and nothing else."

He draws in a breath, which is maybe the only tell that Derrica can get of a stranger who is otherwise collecting his thoughts, his feelings.

"Would you tell me, then, of Dairsmuid? Before it was put to the blade."