Astrid inevitably perks up at that idea, glancing over at his contemplative profile.

Maybe it’s a lowish priority in the war, all things considered. But the Avvar only have so little arable land, most of it too mountainous and cold to grow crops; their existence was already precarious and teetering on the edge, and the winters had been particularly hard any time the blight encroached too far. No rolling fields, no simply planting elsewhere. There were only so many slopes at the base of the mountain.

“How d’you cleanse dragon corruption?”