Drogo had a hard time moving on in the fluffy snow. Even though he came from a snowy, frozen mountain region, he had no pleasure in carrying his short legs in the fresh snow. Ice... that was something else. Well treaded snow was great too. But not this. He couldn't even understand how other gnomes enjoyed it, seeing they were even shorter than he was.
He was breathing heavily. What upset him even more, was that for two days he had had no one to exchange a few words with. Nothing annoyed him more than silence. He was hoping that the ones that the Half-Elf had found were somewhat more talkative, seeing that Thorn wasn't really inclined to converse with him.
Finally, he noticed the travellers at the crossroads next to the chapel. He stopped at the side of the road to look at them. A huge Barbarian who gave him the shivers; a frowning guy, wrapped in a purple cloak; a huge black horse; a wolf... no, a she-wolf, somewhat ruffled... and a seemingly fragile girl, lost in dreams; well, and Thorn, with his eternal mocking smile. Annoying guy, this elf.
He smiled very self-conscious all of a sudden and shyly raised his hand. "Hi".... then he stopped abruptely.