"I will see."
He preferred to be hang out near the big icy wall that formed the southern border of the Tundra. The thing was still something strange to him, as it even survived the summer heath that painted the Tundra green for only a few months every year. Hurricane hadn’t been lying when he had said that the life in the Tundra could be rather hard, but to the graying male it wasn’t as bad as the place he had previously lived in. At least he was welcome here. Yet that didn’t mean that Brynmor had gotten fully used to the cold winter. Even though the spring would soon set in the lands were still covered underneath a sparkling with blanket. During the snowstorms the wall brought him some shelter. He could handle the wall’s cold, but the wind that whirled around him was something else. And since the caves weren’t meant for shelter he depended on something else.
So he is naturally close as her call echo’s across the Tundran lands. Using the wall as a guidance the blind man walks to approach her. Yes, her. It takes him little to no effort to figure that out. Brynmor had always relied more on his other senses and they had grown to become better than just average. It were these senses that make up for the blindness of his eyes. Even though the wall is still in between them Brynmor can make out her scent pretty clearly.
He is actually quite content to learn that she patiently waits at the border, calling out to them to ask for their attention and time. As he passes through the gate in the wall he senses her near. Without her moving he cannot hear the crisping sound of the snow underneath her hooves, but the heath that radiances from her body tells him where she is instead. ”Hello, what brought you to the Tundra?” he asks her, direct as always. His unseeing eyes are directed in her way, or at least, what he thinks in which way she stands. After all, Brynmor cannot see her, and his other senses – developed as they are – cannot help him meet her gaze.
"Through your secret."