He inclined his head at her gratitude, something sharp and weighted in the gesture. A mortal form had far fewer ways of obligating another to settle their debts. But being told, essentially, that he'd overpaid for his half of a plump supper and might expect more reward from her later still sent a bit of mischievous glee throbbing down to his core.

Don't know your Deathless Mother, but if she's behind it all, I'd have a few cross words for her. Rivers hummed. Having only just arrived, he really preferred the world didn't end tomorrow, or even the day after. Still. For him, there was an easy confidence in escape from permanent consequence. He'd return to the Daoine Sidhe, wouldn't he?

And though he cared about men and wolves, more dearly than most of his kith, he was accustomed after millennia to their more transient natures.

But hell if this one wasn't more transient than most! He'd intended to follow on the hunt. Was rather caught off guard by how quickly she vanished into frostbit woodland. Two and a half circles in place, and he decided maybe her debt was best repaid by saving him the trouble of chasing down dinner in tandem.

So, content, he plopped a pale rump back into the snow and waited.

Didn't take too long. Rivers snatched his half midair, forced to drop his pipe to achieve that little touch of showing off, but chuffed with himself for accomplishing it nonetheless.

Set then upon the work of defeathering, he only looked up at the provision of a name. Grinned. Rivers. Not his first name, his original. But his favourite, at the present moment. Just a simple hillfolk. But pleased to meet you, Corvi of Somovo.

Head tilted, What's home like for you, then? Your Deathless Mother the meddling type, there, too?