The corner of Lorne's mouth twitches up, the barest suggestion of a smile. "No, I grew up here and started plenty of snowball fights when I was their age," he answers, a touch wry. "My father is the magistrate. I've been living in a nearby village for a number of years and decided it was time to come back home."

Ah - he catches a glimpse of cloth beneath some kicked-up snow and goes to retrieve what turns out to be Dain's scarf. He shakes it out a bit to get most of the snow off, but it's going to be wet and chilly and therefore basically useless for its intended purpose. "You'll probably be able to send word of your status with one of the messenger birds; there aren't many and they can't fly during storms, but it's better than nothing." Lorne holds the scarf out to Dain. "In the meantime, you may wish to go somewhere warm before you catch a cold. The tavern sometimes has hot cider."

There is the lilt of invitation in Lorne's tone without words actually getting involved. He's Officially Curious about this Shepherd but doesn't want to be nosy.