Adjusts beard crusted with frost, eyes gleaming in firelight
HAR! Gather 'round, you southern disc-flingers, and let me tell you of the Taiga Keeper. I remember that night well - the aurora dancing like green fire above the ancient pines, while the rest of the weak-kneed folk fled south from the Great Frost.
But there was one... voice drops to a reverent whisper One who stayed when others ran. Learned the old ways, they did - not from books or teachers, but from the wolves themselves! thunderous laugh Aye, and from things older still that walk those woods in winter's darkest hours.
leans forward, serious now
I've seen them, you know. Moving silent as snow between the trees, skin marked with frost patterns bright as starlight. During the Night of a Thousand Stars, the forest itself chose them - drove shards of ancient ice right into their heart, it did! pounds chest
The true North lives in that one, as surely as it lives in these old bones of mine. Tag #60 doesn't just wear the title of Keeper - they ARE the Taiga, walking among us. And mark my words, you'll know them by the winter's wisdom in their eyes and the forest's strength in their throws.
raises drinking horn
To the Taiga Keeper! May their paths through our league be as true as the North Star itself!
mutters into beard
Though between you and me, I'd watch those silent ones closest. They're the ones who know the deepest secrets of these woods...