Dain's never been very good at keeping his distance, both for legitimate and for indefensible reasons. He doesn't say that out loud, though, even in a village so far away from everything else and choked by snow for six months out of the year. Even though it's just been about as obvious as it can be.

He does laugh about the latter part. "I certainly didn't," he admits. "Strictly speaking, I'm not meant to be away for so long, but there's nothing anyone can do. And yes, Father Normand was generous enough to offer me some room at the chapel." Dain pauses, studying Lorne, a man so ready to stoop to childish enjoyment, but without the ready smile that usually comes with such a penchant. "And you? You're clearly not so fed up with snow. Are you a seasonal traveller as well?"