It's hard to get a smell off of Reynard, the air around him is sharp and frozen. What whiffs Harrowheart gets is a mixture: The damp decaying smell of a forest floor; the fresh scent of evergreen pines; his clothes smoked out by a log fire; the aroma of stew, wine, blood... Somehow he manages not to smell very human.
"No, I haven't. Though I must say that the sound of meeting these Tuskarr people sounds like wonderful fun." He finishes the syruped snow and plants the stick in the ground so that he can step back and take his hat off to do a flourishing bow. "I am Reynard North, pleasure to meet you." Settling his hat back on his head he adds, "I'm from an Earth. Sadly without walrus folks."
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"No, I haven't. Though I must say that the sound of meeting these Tuskarr people sounds like wonderful fun." He finishes the syruped snow and plants the stick in the ground so that he can step back and take his hat off to do a flourishing bow. "I am Reynard North, pleasure to meet you." Settling his hat back on his head he adds, "I'm from an Earth. Sadly without walrus folks."