Calanon gave his hosts a bashful smile in acceptance of their offering of drawing him a bath, but spoke no more and instead listened. It was what he was best at. The Ranger had always been a soft spoken one (other than his signature cries he let out in combat). He had learned quite young that one could learn far more listening than speaking, be it within and out of nature. 

He had not heard that tale before, but then again he had never been this far north. "Yes," he said. "I believe I saw the mountain you're describing past the border peaks that surround this town. I could see through the northern pass into it. It looks like a wasteland of snow and frozen earth." To his hosts, seeing the pass was no feat. But seeing the mountain and the quality of the land beyond it was extraordinary, but then again Calanon had Elven eyes. 

He found a cloth and wiped his mouth a final time, before drawing himself up and placing his hands together, giving them a respectful bow. "Thank you for the Soup. And if it is not too much trouble, I'll lead Brogach to the stables and take a small bath perhaps." He glanced to Rayadell and gave a small bow to her too. "I look forward to traveling together." He didn't know her, but he was nothing if not respectful and polite, and he did enjoy meeting new people despite how cool and indifferent he must seem to the untrained eye.