Nikodem remained quiet and unassuming as they plucked along through the snow, remaining tucked firmly against Malta’s broad chest as he soaked up the significantly larger male’s body heat. He didn’t shift from the position he’d taken on after being drug up into the saddle until Malta slid down from the horse, leaving the elf’s trembling body wrapped up in a cloak atop the creature. He briefly wondered if he could take up the reins and kick the horse out into the snow, but he knew fully well that he would die if he even made it far enough to escape the grips of the stranger. He sniffled softly and slowly pried his tear filled eyes open as Malta began to address him again, and it didn’t take long for Niko to begin wondering if a death to the bitter cold would be a kinder alternative to what he was being taken into. Khry was the word he used, and even an uneducated underling such as Niko knew who the folk were that used such terms. He was in Alriah. He knew well enough what happened to his kind within the bitter northern wastelands, and he whimpered softly at the realization of the fate that awaited him now. He would die, most likely in a horrifically brutal manner. “I-I swear to you, I know nothin’ more,” he whispered, but his words went unheeded by the northern soldier and he was left to shiver and softly sob atop the mount. The tears froze to his cheeks as they fell, and his body jerked with each sharp exhale of breath.<br/><br/>As they approached the encampment, Niko slowly lifted his head upwards to examine what he could see through the blinding frost. He couldn’t discern much, but he did catch glimpses of the bodies that milled within the storm, watching the approaching party warily. Niko wanted nothing more than to keel over and die in that very moment, but he’d dug himself into this hole and there was absolutely no way out. He should’ve kept his lips sealed and perished out within the bitter cold, it most likely would’ve been a better alternative as he had little to nothing to offer the people of the north. What basic info he did have came from his brother, who didn’t tell him much of anything due to the fact that most of the information available was confidential.<br/><br/>The small group came to a halt outside of a fairly large tent, and very shortly after he was dragged down from the mount he’d been deposited onto. He groaned as he was placed onto his feet and his own legs couldn’t support his miniscule weight. Malta helped him up and into the tent, and Nikodem did his best to move forwards on his own, not desiring to appear weak in front of a man who he assumed was rather powerful amidst the people of the north. He tipped his chin upwards slightly as Malta began relaying everything he’d learned thus far, continuing to lean against his captor ever to slightly for support as he knew he wouldn’t remain steady on his own two feet.<br/><br/>“I … I wasn’t sure what ingredients I was looking for. I merely knew I didn’t have what I needed in the south, so I decided a bit of exploration was in order,” he explained, managing to keep his quivering voice more or less under control as he spoke. It was clear he was afraid, and still suffered from the effects of the storm, but he did his best to remain level and confident. “I didn’t mean to travel this far … I continued on because I’d found nothing that would be of assistance to me.”