Grüg blinked slowly. When was the last time he spoke to anyone but the carrion birds? He could not remember. There was still no telling if this "Vaunk" was planning to attack. His voice a rumbling mumble, he replied:

"The ice is melting. Been moving south for a long time. More food here."

He prodded at the fire, adding two pine branches. They glowed and popped. The sun peeked here and there through the mist, but it would be at least a moon before there would be no need for a morning fire. 

"You?"