He started unsure of where the boy was going with his story, but just the tone of his voice put an anxiety in Johnathon and intuitively he knew that he would not like how the story ended. He walked on in silence, listening in rapt attention and coming to understand what Adrian meant by telling this by degrees. A sad frown overcame his face little by little. What a terrible thing for a family to experience, a little boy especially. "Sorry," he muttered, looking to the ground. Once more he'd gone and said something without thinking about it. He did feel sorry for the boy, but the apology was spurred by a sense that he'd just been reprimanded. The other group members spoke up in response. As the banter between Soah and Crom continued, sadness changed to discontent on his face. The wild looking man they'd recently picked up certainly had a nerve about him, in the tavern that would have started a fight straight out. But this was the road, and they had a great distance to go before they could start squabbling without great risk. The snow was slowly thickening, the group's loud, crunching footsteps were no longer reaching the soil. Ahead, even the passes were now looming above them. At the largest, most open and lowest pass a silhouette could occasionally be made out crossing the apex, the dark-clothed travelers stood out against the white slope in places. The others seemed far more sparsely populated.