[And he remains, of course, entirely oblivious to the other man's musings, though had he discerned the shape of Fjord's thoughts he'd likely have blushed all over again. As things stand, he continues their stroll around this new and unknown city with all the easy grace of someone accustomed to travel, with seeing strange sights, though loses none of his sense of wonder despite it.

He leans down a little as they approach the stall, brow pulling tight as he tries to discern what exactly is on offer, here.]

I did! Born aboard a ship, actually but um, there was this storm, came out of nowhere one evening, waves tall as towers, sky suddenly turning black as my sins. I must have been...oh, seven or eight? Something along those lines. Our ship was wrecked off the coast of Nevivon, my sister and I were the only survivors. As luck would have it though, we were adopted by the village grandmothers of Nevivon, spent the rest of our youth there. Not a bad way to grow up, all in all.

[The death of his parents, it's an old hurt now. One he can talk about without feeling the pain of it any longer.

Abruptly he turns towards Fjord, lips curled, brow raised. Motions vaguely towards the food with a leather-clad hand.]

What do you think this is, eh? Any ideas? I can't work it out for the life of me.