[Thrall is out in a park, looking rather reverent as he kneels in the thin blanket of snow. A small altar of rocks is in front of him, a small fire burning an offering. After kneeling in silence for a few moments, Thrall stands, taking a bottle from a saddlebag on his wolf's side. He carefully breaks the wax seal on the rim of the bottle,
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You honor me with your presence, spirit. I trust this year's Winter Veil finds you well?
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I am very well. And yourself?
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Alright... a little worried I must admit, but otherwise I'm fine, great spirit... Forgive me if I overstep my bounds, but, may I ask your name?
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